Crippled
by Timeless Tragedy
Summary: At Freddy's, there were the servers and the entertainers. Mike, a server, hated the entertainers for being 'better' in the eyes of the guests. After accidentally running into one of the entertainers in the dining area, he begins to see that they're just like him, flawed and very human. The inner strength of the 'cripple' of the group might just be enough to win Mike over. Humanized
1. Welcome to Fazbear's

Author: Timeless Tragedy  
Rating: T  
Words in Chapter: 2095  
Written: March 9, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy  
Warnings: _Humanized  
_Disclaimer: Characters belong to Scott Cawthon. Author owns nothing but the plot of the story.

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"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, I'm your host, Mike. I'll be taking care of you for the rest of the night," the young man recited, forcing excitement into his voice as he looked past the guests to see how the rest of the serving staff was doing. It was this part of the job he hated most: greeting the ungrateful families that hardly tipped even after he took their ridiculously complicated orders and brought it to them without any mistakes. It wasn't the tips that made him hate working the tables, it was the disappointment from the kids that made him resent it.

They wanted the entertainers to serve them. But unfortunately for them, there were only four or five entertainers, and the rest of the cast were regular people like him. It wasn't his fault that they drew the short end of the stick. He did his best and it wasn't fair that it didn't reach the same level as the entertainers. Crowd pleasing was their job, not his.

All the same, it made him somewhat glad that he rarely, if ever, ran into any of them. They tended to be too busy working more tables than the rest to be able to stop and chat. And being the main reason the families even came, they didn't take breaks beyond stopping to grab something quick to snack on between shows. They were just so... dedicated. It was as if they enjoyed taunting him, pointing out how they were better at the job than he was. At least he didn't have to parade around dressed up like animals and do a song and dance routine on top of serving greedy kids who wanted everything on the menu. With extra ketchup on the side.

He heard a few kids cheer at a nearby table and knew without a shadow of a doubt that one of the entertainers was serving them. He wondered who it was that was taking the orders. Usually cheers like that meant Freddy, or maybe Bonnie. The children adored Freddy's humor or reaching out to grab Bonnie's long purple ears or red bow tie.

Mike could still remember the one time a boy had grabbed a fistful of ear and almost pulled them right off. Bonnie had turned red as a tomato, running off to get the fake ears reattached in the bathroom. Mike had joined in, laughing at Bonnie's expense. Yet another reason to be thankful he was forced to wear the purple server's uniform instead of the animal based ones Freddy and the others had to wear. He was fine with the lavender tee, long black pants, and pale purple apron equipped with all the pockets. While it wasn't his favorite color, it was comfortable and didn't look nearly as ridiculous as the brown suit Freddy wore.

Mike jotted down his table's order while half listening to the chatter somewhere behind him. The kids were asking questions now beyond the typical 'is it fun to sing with the others?' and 'why are you dressed like an animal?' that the entertainers normally got. A girl's quiet voice was in the middle of asking if it was scary sailing on the ocean.

Curious beyond belief, Mike used the excuse of dropping off the order to the kitchen to pass the table he was eavesdropping on to get a look at their server.

The man working the table wasn't one Mike recognized. Sure, he'd seen pictures of the crew from before he'd been there, seeing as the staff had expanded lately and with all the changes there wasn't an updated picture, but he'd avoided the entertainers since they tended to stick together. He'd never even spoken to one of them! But one look at the guy brought his name to mind, since he'd heard all about the man's show even if he had never seen it. And it wasn't like his costume didn't give away his role. Red fox ears poked through a tricorne hat decorated with the typical skull and crossbones. A seemingly crudely torn hole in the back of his long red coat let a white tipped tail freely fall down his legs, ending right about at the knee. A cutlass he assumed was fake hung from a thick belt halfway sliding down the man's hips, a gun on the other side just visible beyond the decorative gold trim of the coat and almost hidden by the poofy white shirt he wore. As if that wasn't intimidating enough, the already tall man was made taller with gleaming black boots. It was all finished off an eye patch over his right eye and a metal hook that seemed to be set into a wooden limb. One thing was for sure, the costume was nowhere near as lame as the rest of them. Even the server wear seemed dull compared to what Foxy the Pirate wore.

It took him a minute to realize he was staring, for Foxy happened to look over, an almost glowing yellow eye meeting comparatively dull blue ones. Mike scampered off to the kitchen, desperate to escape the piercing look. He dropped off the order and was about to return to the dining area when Foxy himself walked in.

"Liked what ye saw, did ye there lad?" the entertainer hummed, amusement dancing in his single exposed yellow eye. Mike nearly swallowed his own tongue. "I haven't seen ye 'round 'ere before. New?"

A new voice broke in, saying, "It's Mike, isn't it? He's not new, Foxy. We just never got properly introduced. You like to hide in the staff room on breaks instead of in the kitchen, don't you Mike?"

"U-uh yeah," Mike muttered, surprised when Chica joined them. She finished drying her hands on a towel then stuck one out to shake.

"It's nice to meet you. Formally, that is. You should come to see us sometime! I promise, we don't bite. Scares away the customers if we do," she said with a wink. Mike shook her hand, marveling at how warm her skin was. It looked like she had been at the stove for a while; her pale skin was flushed and her blond hair stuck to her forehead in places. "Why don't you come see us after closing? You could help us close up and then we could go out for a drink or something to get to know each other. How does that sound? Are you free?"

Mike hesitated, glancing between the two entertainers nervously. They were strangers to him, seeing as he'd never even seen Foxy in person before, which made him a little uneasy. Maybe they'd heard his comments about how stupid their costumes looked or how annoying their repetitive shows could get. It could be a prank, even.

Then again, they worked as performers for children and there was a chance Mike was only being paranoid because that hook looked sharp enough to gut him. Finally, he nodded, making Chica smile excitedly.

"You'll come too, won't you Foxy?"

"Someone 'as ta be there to make sure Fazbear doesn't get himself keelhauled by the women he tries to 'win over.' I can't stay fer long," he answered, moving past the others to pick up his order. Mike watched the man carefully get the plates balanced on his left arm, Chica rushing over to help. They got the plates steady, then Foxy headed for the door, nodding to Mike as he pushed the door open with his hip.

"We'll see you tonight, right after closing. Hopefully you don't mind if Freddy and Bonnie join us?" Chica asked. Mike nodded dumbly as she handed him the plates for his table that the cooks had prepared while they talked. She grinned and happily pushed him back toward the door. He stepped out into the dining area, moving toward his table.

He could see Foxy moving about the room, already tending to a few other tables to give the visitors the best experience possible. Over the noise, Foxy's deep voice asked each child what they liked and what they wanted to be when they grew up. They eagerly replied with as much detail as they could in the short time he was able to stay at their table. Mike could imagine just how special the kids felt under the warm gaze of the entertainer.

He found himself keeping an eye on both Foxy and the clock as closing time grew near. He was finishing up with his last table when he heard a few kids complain at having to leave when they were so busy having fun with the fox captain. After an assurance from the pirate that he'd be there the next time they came, the family cleared out, leaving the restaurant empty besides the staff members. Mike felt the prickles of nerves race down his spine at the idea of having to go out with the entertainers. From what he knew, the two groups rarely mixed after hours.

Chica rushed from the kitchen where she had been dropping off the last plates, grabbing Mike's arm and pulling him to a back room that had been fashioned into a change room for the entertainers. He'd never been back there, there had never been reason to be, so he was surprised to see the lockers against the back wall and a few benches that were already occupied by Freddy and the others. Chica motioned for him to take a seat then joined Bonnie on the right bench.

"Fred, lend me a hand, would you?" Foxy asked, struggling with the jacket's sleeve which had gotten caught on something. He held still as the other entertainer moved to help.

"So, Mike, what do you think about our little restaurant?" Chica chirped, pulling off her feathery wig to let her shoulder length hair out. It fell over her slim shoulders and she ran her fingers through it to ease out any tangles. She turned her magenta eyes on him and started to shrug off the dress she wore throughout the day to reveal the white clothes she wore underneath it.

"It's, uh, interesting at least. The kids love you guys."

"As they should!" Bonnie laughed. "We have the _best_ routine you'll ever see, kid!"

"Dad's been at this so long he knows exactly how to make the money we need to keep this place running. Lucky for us," Freddy said. He gathered Foxy's jacket and hat into his arms, tucking the tail between them to keep it from getting lost. As he moved off, Mike couldn't help but stare at the 'pirate.' The wooden arm went up to just above where his elbow would be, abruptly ending where a black band pressed into the pale flesh of his upper arm. It suddenly looked so very real that Mike's stomach dropped. He glanced up, startled when he found that yellow eye focused on his face. He looked away sharply, watching from the corner of his eye as Foxy unhooked the prosthetic arm and took it off.

"The kids loved having you work the tables again, Foxy," Chica continued, getting the fake rabbit ears off Bonnie, being careful to be gentle with the front section that acted like a false bunny's nose. "Did you make enough tips?"

"Not even close. I'll figure something out."

"What did you need the tips for?" Bonnie asked. He went to dig out his wallet until a glare from the tall redhead stopped him. He raised his hands in surrender, offering an apologetic smile.

"I've got a job interview in a couple days, I needed to have enough for bus fares both ways. Rent's passed due."

"I'm free, I'll drive ya," Freddy said. He stood and clapped his hands, looking around the room with a grin. "Come on, we've a newcomer to welcome! And a fox to drive home once we've got him drunk enough. Foxy, we'll figure out what to do about your rent tomorrow. For now, let's just enjoy ourselves. Who's driving who?"

"I've got my girl, and I know you're takin' Fox. Where do you wanna go, Mikey?" Bonnie turned to Mike. The server looked between the rabbit and chicken then over to where Freddy stood. Though he was against having to choose between the two groups, he motioned to Bonnie and Chica since it had been her idea in the first place, getting a grin from the two of them. "Awesome! Let's go!"

Mike was dragged off to the car, suddenly wondering if he was walking to his doom.


	2. We Hope You Enjoy

Words in Chapter: 2038  
Written: March 10, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy  
Warnings: _Humanized_

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Mike couldn't believe that the Bonnie and Chica he was sitting in the car with were the same Bonnie and Chica that had just finished a shift that involved singing and serving food to young children. When a song came on that they liked, the two started belting the lyrics loudly and off key, filling the whole car with horrible noise. Mike swore his ears were bleeding. Even he didn't sing that badly, and these two were professionals who sang literally every day.

Chica finally reached over and shut the music off, glancing at him in the rear view mirror and flashing him a pearly grin. She rested her hand on Bonnie's knee affectionately while her other hand came up to brush a few stubborn strands out of her eyes. She looked so happy, so content, that for a brief moment Mike felt jealous that she had something so wonderful while he was alone.

"So. We saw you staring at Foxy earlier, why don't you ask whatever questions you have now so you can get them out of the way," she suggested lightly. She twisted in her seat enough to meet his eyes while Bonnie nodded in support. Mike felt his stomach begin to turn since he didn't want to say the wrong thing. He didn't know what was and wasn't okay to say about their friend and his situation. And he hadn't meant to stare, it was just that he hadn't expected Foxy to be missing almost all of his arm. He'd thought that the hook was just a fake attachment sewn into something he was holding. It did make the whole thing more real if the kids asked to touch it out see it up close.

"It's okay, Mike. We're not gonna judge. Trust me, any question you ask, he's had someone ask before," Bonnie added. His words helped ease the discomfort some, even if it didn't make things easier.

"Is he blind? I saw the scar…"

"He is in one eye. Perfect vision in the other," Chica replied. She smiled. "Doesn't stop him from serving the kids and it makes it seem even more authentic! They love the eye patch, and they think the scar makes him look more fierce."

"And his arm?"

"Same sort of idea. He's got a lot of practice with it, so you don't have to worry about him hurting anyone. He's got an arm that he wears when he isn't at work, too. Just to make his life easier. He's got pretty good control with that one, so sometimes it's easy to forget he only has the one hand."

"He really looks the part. If I didn't know better, I'd really think he was a pirate," Mike mused. The two in the front seats laughed, sharing a quick grin. Chica turned to face the front again and sighed happily. She looked out the window at the buildings rushing past. She took Bonnie's free hand for a few moments, resting her hand over his when he went to shift gears. Mike stayed quiet to let them have the time together.

When they reached the bar, their friends were already waiting for them. They were deeply enthralled in their conversation, and Mike could hear Freddy's booming voice before he even opened the car door to get out. He strolled over to them, not waiting for the other two who lagged behind to share a sweet kiss. Freddy, upon spotting the boy, grinned and clapped him on the back with one great paw of a hand.

"I hope you can hold your drinks, boy. We'll be here awhile. You don't have anywhere you have to be, do you?"

"No, sir."

"Grand. We'll show you a good time."

"Fred," Foxy broke in, rubbing his arm where the skin and prosthetic met absently, "I'm going to need a ride back before nine. I have stuff to do."

Freddy rolled his eyes and fished the keys from his pocket, tossing them over. He then wrapped an arm around Mike's shoulders with a grin. He led him inside, greeting the bartender by name and asking how her three kids were doing.

While Freddy chatted, Mike unhooked himself to get a better look around the small bar. It looked like it had recently gotten an overhaul; the tiles still looked fresh, the bar itself was organized well and reflected the customers' faces right back at them, the tables were clean without the stains that would likely build up over time. There wasn't a huge dance floor, but there was enough room to feel like it wasn't packed. He liked it and briefly wondered if the four entertainers came here often.

"Mike, come sit with us!" Chica called cheerfully as she and Bonnie grabbed a seat at one of the round tables positioned so it was out of the way. He made his way over, stopping to look at a few of the pictures on the wall as he did so.

One in particular caught his eye. It depicted three people, two men and a woman, grinning widely at the camera with pride. He recognized, vaguely, the older of the men. There were laugh lines around the gentleman's bright cerulean eyes, making his hard features softer. White hairs dotted his square jaw, fading as it reached the bottoms of his ears before rejoining the mop of messy white hair atop his head. The man standing next to him was a spitting image, though he was younger and as such his hair was still a warm brown. The only person he couldn't remember seeing before was the woman to the right of Freddy, a woman who shared their eyes but had more delicate features and a head of hair that reached down to her breast. Her hair was golden. The girl was thinner than the other two as well, nowhere near as broadly shouldered as her father and brother. Something about her made her pretty, though Mike couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

He was so focused on the picture that he didn't hear the quiet footsteps approaching him from behind.

"I forgot they had that picture here," Foxy said. Mike glanced over, looking up into the man's one working eye. He'd left the eye patch behind by the look of it, giving Mike a chance to look at the scar which stretched from his eyebrow at an angle, across his eye, and down to the middle of his cheek. His eyelid seemed to droop, mostly hiding the milky eye from view. Mike forced himself to look back to the picture to avoid staring again.

"Who is she?"

"Freddy's sister, Goldie. She works at the restaurant too, I'm surprised you don't know her."

"I didn't even know of you," Mike pointed out. He was surprised when Foxy laughed and grinned, herding him over to the table to take a seat. There were drinks waiting for them when they got there. Mike flashed a thankful smile at Chica who winked in return.

Freddy joined them after a while, flopping into his chair with such force it skidded into Foxy's, nearly knocking the both of them off. He and Bonnie burst out laughing when Foxy glared daggers at his friend. Mike couldn't help but chuckle under his breath as they were swept up into a loud conversation about some of the situations the group of friends had gotten into while working at the pizzeria.

Mike learned that Freddy was, as he'd thought, the son of the restaurant's founder and owner. He'd been working there for years, practically since it opened. He planned to take it over when his father finally retired, and he and his sister would run it together if she ever decided to settle down. Though that seemed unlikely, they told him. Bonnie had been there just as long since it was good, easy work that let him do something he loved. Chica had applied to work in the kitchen, but much to her surprise both Bonnie and Freddy had insisted that she work the tables and sing at least part of the time.

The only one of the four who hadn't jumped at the chance to work there was Foxy. Chica explained that he had been determined to finish school and didn't have time to pick up even a part time job on top of his studies. Apparently things were tough at home, so when he wasn't in class he was busy dealing with his home life. Something had happened, and one thing led to another and he dropped out and picked up a part time job at the restaurant. He still worked strange hours, which explained why Mike had never even seen him before, since he had at least one other part time job to cover the bills. He was trying to get into the swing of working full time at Freddy's but he was struggling with things at home still.

"How's your sister doing?" Freddy asked after a lull in the conversation. Foxy shrugged, dropping his gaze to the water bottle he'd been nursing since they arrived. The others at the table sat up, worry filling their faces. Mike glanced around at them.

"Is she sick again?" Bonnie prodded gently, teaching across the table to rest a hand on Foxy's. He was brushed off as the redhead stood and pulled on his jacket.

"She's managing. I think she's got an infection. I'm taking her to the doctor tomorrow."

"Does that mean-?"

"That I have to leave work early? Yes. I'll bring you back your car tomorrow, Freddy. It was nice getting to know you, Mike. Good night," Foxy said shortly, leaving the bar with his shoulders hunched. Freddy grunted, tossed a few bills onto the table to pay for their drinks, and ran after his friend. There was a long silence as the three remaining people tried to come to terms with what had just happened. They waited until they received pitying looks from the barmaid, finally packing up to head home upon accepting that things weren't going to magically fix themselves and lighten back up.

Mike was completely lost, unsure of where he stood within the group of entertainers. He kept his mouth shut as they climbed into Bonnie's car. He was eager to get home.

"I'm sorry about that, Mike," Chica mumbled, once more looking at him in the mirror. Her eyes were filling with tears. "You must hate us now. You'll let us make it up to you, won't you?"

"I don't hate you… I just wasn't expecting that. Will he be alright?"

"Foxy's just sensitive about some stuff," Bonnie said. He frowned a little. "It doesn't take a lot to set him off. He hasn't been in contact with the two of us lately, which means things aren't going great for him. We'll just give him space and he'll come around and apologize. Try not to hold it against him, kid. He's trying his best."

Mike nodded, fiddling with his seat belt. He didn't ask questions. He didn't want to. It wasn't his business, they weren't even his friends. All he had to do was wait for it to all blow over and get on with his life since nothing they said or did really affected him anyway. Not his problem.

Now if only the whole thing would stop making him curious, he'd be fine…

Bonnie dropped him off outside his apartment building and after one more apology from Chica he was able to retreat inside. He watched from the window as the car drove off. Part of him was glad; the rest of him wanted to see if there was some way of making them feel better after the disaster the outing became. There was more to it than one of their friends snapping because of stress, he could tell. But as long as he didn't get involved, he could let them deal with it on their own without getting hurt. Hopefully, they'd leave him alone at work so he could finish out the week without any problems.

There was probably a very good reason the servers and entertainers didn't mix. He just hoped he wouldn't be finding out first hand.


	3. Our Stories

Words in Chapter: 2096  
Written: March 11, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Foxy, Freddy, Chica, Bonnie  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

He was running late for work. The buses had been backed up, not showing up to his stop on time, and then the traffic was so bad it felt like he would have gotten to work faster if he'd gotten out and walked. Too bad it was a little too far to do such a thing, or he would have jumped off the first chance he got.

Luckily for him, it seemed like he wasn't the only one who had been having trouble. A few of the other servers had already called in to tell the boss they'd be late but they were in fact on their way it's just that traffic _sucked_, so he didn't feel too bad. The entertainers hadn't shown up either yet, besides Foxy. And only having one of them in the building was probably going to kill business a bit for the morning.

He looked up when one of the other servers walked up to him, shedding his jacket with a grin that lit up his chocolate eyes. Mike smiled at the man.

"Hey, Jeremy! Traffic didn't kill you?"

Jeremy laughed, hanging up the coat on one of the hooks set into the wall just inside the kitchen. He pulled down the apron, tying it into place around his waist.

"Not this time. I swear it's getting bad," he answered. "Looks like we're gonna be understaffed today. Ready to take on a hundred tables at once?"

"Not at all," Mike grinned. He headed out with Jeremy to get the restaurant ready for the customers. "What are they going to do with just one entertainer?"

"I guess Foxy'll do a few more shows than normal, and he'll be working as many tables as he can handle. Knowing the rest of them though, they'll be here before long. The only thing that'll keep them away is if they got into an accident or something drastic like that. The kids will be happy either way."

"Mike," a voice cut in. The man looked up to find Foxy looking at him from across the room. He looked at the table instead of the yellow eyes. The entertainer wasn't in costume, which surprised him, instead wearing the thin black clothes they wore beneath the heavy costumes. With a heavy sigh, he walked over to the taller man's side to get the conversation over with.

"Not dressed for work?" He asked, taking the tray of salt peppers to help setting them out. Foxy wasn't wearing a prosthetic.

"I'll get dressed in a few minutes. I didn't want to get the coat caught on anything while getting everything set."

"You don't talk like a pirate all the time?"

Foxy laughed. "Only during work hours, lad. It's easier to talk normally most of the time."

"What did you call me over for?" Mike finally asked, following the man to another table. Foxy would distribute the shakers and drink menus and the such while Mike carried the trays.

"To talk to you, without the others around. And to say that I'm sorry for my behavior and the scene I caused last night."

Striking yellow eyes met bright blue and Mike found himself having to remind himself to take a breath. He hurriedly looked away, nodding if only to get Foxy to look away. Once the entertainer continued to walk, Mike found his voice again.

"It's all good. How are you doing? It looked like you were pretty upset about something when you stormed off," he said. There was a pause and Foxy gently took the tray from him and put it down before raking a hand through his own hair tiredly, suddenly looking so much older than he was.

"I've got to go get dressed, we're opening soon, and I've got to be ready by then. They made the costumes so hard to get on, you practically can't do it by yourself." Mike's eyes moved to the stump, and his face burned in shame as soon as he realized how Foxy probably took the action. The taller of the two simply walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Jeremy, who had dropped back to give them space, whistled lowly.

"That could'a gone better."

"Oh shut up," Mike snapped. "I hardly know the guy, it's going to be easy to offend him! It's not like I was _trying_ to upset him."

"You're just good at it."

Mike would have hit him. He was aiming to, to give him a good punch for that comment, but had to abort that plan when Bonnie and Chica walked in hand and hand. The young woman smiled and waved as she was dragged to the back room. Mike tried to fight back the smile her behavior caused, but in the end shook his head and went back to work already feeling a little better.

He was the unlucky soul who had to open the doors that morning. There was already a line

forming outside with many eager kids bouncing from excitement at it finally being time for them to go inside to see their friends. The parents looked thankful at not having to hear the constant questions about how long it would be any longer.

He got the families settled at the tables and the rest of the servers dispersed to start taking orders while they waited for the entertainers to get dressed and in place.

A small family, just a young couple with a little girl, had him stop and chat. She asked about the entertainers and what they were like. She seemed amused when he told her a couple of the stories they'd shared with him at the bar. He wasn't allowed to leave to take their order to the kitchen until Bonnie and Chica had come out and mounted the stage. It was only then that the little girl let go of his arm so he could walk away.

He quickly dropped off the order then went to watch their show, curious as to how they planned to do it without their lead singer.

"Hey kids! Welcome parents! Ready to listen to some awesome music?" Bonnie called, earning many squeals of delight from the children scattered about the room. He smiled at them all. Picking up the guitar and starting to tune it, he turned to Chica with a gleam in his eyes. "Looks like our friend Freddy's running late! What should we do, Chica? We can't sing without him!"

"I don't know, Bonnie. Maybe one of our friends would help us!" she answered. She turned toward the hallway; Mike moved to get a better look at whatever had caught her attention and wasn't surprised to see Foxy standing in the doorway. "Hey, there's Foxy the Pirate! Why don't you help us sing?"

Mike thought he saw a brief look panic cross the man's face as he said, "The kiddies don't want to hear this ol' sea fox sing, lass. It's been much too long since I last gave it a go."

"We'll sing a song you know, just give it a try! We promise we won't laugh if you make a mistake," Bonnie said. He smiled encouragingly when Foxy approached the stage, watching as Chica helped him up and gave him Freddy's microphone. "That's better! Ready kids?"

They were greeted with another cheer and the three started to sing "You Are a Pirate," much to the amusement of the parents. The children joined in, almost drowning out the backup singers, though Foxy could still be heard singing, clear and strong. After another song or two, Chica and Bonnie left the stage to let Foxy go through one of his normal skits, an adventurous tale about finding and fighting the Kraken.

Chica made her way over to Mike, leaning close to ask, "So what did you think?"

She left before he could answer and he didn't have time to hunt her down since he had work to do. He went back to his tables, catching sight of Freddy rushing in the front door and heading straight to the back to get into costume. Shaking his head, he went to check on the table with the little blond girl. The mother beckoned him over.

"Do you think it would be alright if we went to talk to Foxy the Pirate? He wouldn't mind, would he?" She asked softly. Mike glanced at the stage where Foxy was finishing up the story, a smile coming to his lips as he thought.

"I don't think he'd mind meeting one of his fans. Come with me, I'll take you to meet him."

The little girl and her mother followed close behind him, the girl trying hard not to giggle every few seconds. They weaved between the tables and stopped in front of the stage just as Foxy was jumping down. Mike grinned which made the entertainer lift an eyebrow in question.

"Hey Foxy, meet one of your little fans," he said. The girl giggled and approached shyly, looking up at the tall man who knelt to be closer. He rested his hook on his raised knee.

"Ho, who be this? What do ye call yerself, me lass?"

"I'm Mel!"

"That's a fine name, Mel. What can I be doin' for ye?"

The little girl blinked her big eyes up at him, raising her arms for a hug. Chuckling, he obliged. She stayed there for a while before reaching up to tug on his hat. She didn't quite manage to pull it off, only making it shift so the ears weren't centered, but she seemed happy to have gotten it to move. He laughed with her, a light in his eyes that Mike hadn't seen before. He asked her a few more questions, all of which she answered giddily, then it was her mother's chance to ask one.

"Is that hook real?"

"Aye, as real as yer arm is. It ain't sharp, if that's what worries ye," he answered while pulling up the sleeve to show them. They both gasped, and little hands moved to prod at the prosthetic curiously. She poked at the plastic and traced the seams within it until she reached the soft skin of his upper arm. Her fingers lingered there for a moment. The whole time Foxy simply stayed still, watching her with a kind eye.

"I thought it was just a prop," the child's mother said. She smiled a little when Foxy nodded.

"How'd you lose it?"

"That's an interestin' tale, lassie. Full a danger. Ye sure ye're ready for it?"

"Uh huh!"

Foxy rose to his feet, hopping back onto stage to sit with his legs hanging over the edge. He patted the space beside him with his hand. Mel scrambled up the stairs to sit beside him. Once she was settled, he motioned for the mother to sit on the other side. Momentarily surprised, she joined in and Foxy wrapped his arm around the child to pull her close. He leaned in and began to speak.

"Me an' me crew were sailin' the high seas when we happened upon a black ship hoistin' the colors of the great navy. Ye know what that be, don't ye? A pirate's greatest enemy was approaching! We thought we were done for!"

"Oh no!" Mel squealed, looking scared. Foxy squeezed her shoulder. He smiled and it showed off the rows sharp teeth in his mouth. "What did you do? What did you do?"

"As the blasted ship came close to us…"

The mother pulled Mike aside to speak with him while Mel was distracted by the story. She glanced around then took out her wallet, slipping a bill into his hand.

"Thank you for the wonderful experience for my daughter. Split that with him, will you? She was so excited when we told her we were coming here for her birthday, and you've all exceeded our expectations. I'll be sure to recommend this place to my friends. Thank you."

He smiled, looking over at the two still happily talking on the stage. He liked seeing Foxy like this, smiling and animated, looking for all the world like nothing mattered but making that little girl laugh. He recalled Bonnie's comment about tips and glanced down at the money in his hand then back at the woman awaiting his response.

"I'll make sure he gets it," he said quietly. He watched as the woman took her daughter back to their table. Foxy laughed gently at the sight and walked off to return to work. Mike looked back down at the money, making up his mind.


	4. And Our Service

Words in Chapter: 2369  
Written: March 12, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, Freddy, Foxy's Sister  
Warnings: _Humanized_  
AN: Thank you all so much for your support through favorites and follows. Special thanks to those who have reviewed; you've all helped make my day better. Thank you.

* * *

The next few days passed without incident, for the entertainers mostly kept their distance. His life settled back into his usual routine and he was fine with that. It was easier than dealing with the problems of the others. Work was a breeze, since he'd been working there for over a year, and he was used to the drama that could occur if, let's say, an order was wrong.

He racked up the tips, storing them in a tin in his living room. He checked it each night after dropping off the change and bills to see if he was making any progress at filling it up. He could hardly tell, either way.

He shoved the last of the night's tips into his pocket as he walked to the kitchen to grab his coat, exhausted from the long day. Having children's parties come to the restaurant was awful. He almost ran into Chica in the doorway.

"Oh, Mike! I was looking for you!"

"What's up?"

"Come with me," she said and proceeded to practically race down the hall to the change room. With a tired sigh, Mike followed. The young woman bounded over to the lockers and dug through hers in search of something, while Mike leaned against the wall. Bonnie, who had been sitting on one of the benches, fumbled with a little black box until he managed to hide it away in his pocket. "Aha! Here it is, Mike!"

Chica hurried over and offered an envelope to him. She was almost bouncing as he opened the flap and slid the yellow paper out.

"Did you give Freddy his?" Bonnie asked, moving over to his girlfriend's side to drape an arm over her shoulder.

"Yes! And Foxy the ones for him and his sister. Oh I hope they'll come, I miss seeing her," Chica replied. She cuddled into Bonnie with a sad look.

"You guys throwing a party?" Mike asked. They grinned. He didn't bother to read the invitation, instead he placed the slip back inside and carefully put it in his pocket. "I'll be able to go. I've got nothing coming up. I'll be there."

"Do you think you could talk to Jeremy for us?" Chica asked, surprising Mike. He stared at her, for he'd never even seen her or Bonnie talking to any of the servers besides himself. They were always too busy or spending their time amongst themselves to bother mixing with the servers. So it didn't make any sense to him that not only were they trying to win him over, they were reaching out to another.

He said as much. It made Chica give him a sad, sorry smile.

"That's exactly why I thought we'd try to fix things... We never meant to create that divide. It just sort of happened. And trust me, we all regret that it did. So we're going to see what we can do to make it better. We're all just normal employees."

"Yeah, but with better pay and adoring fans that make the rest of us look bad," Mike said. The other two winced but didn't deny it. He sighed. "I'll give him the invitation. But I'll need a ride to wherever you're having this thing."

"We'll get Freddy to drive you," Bonnie said. "He's already going to have to pick up Foxy and his sister if they decide to come."

Chica gave him a hug as he left. She seemed sad and he tried to fight the feelings of guilt that threatened to choke him. He grabbed his jacket and went home without speaking to any of the other employees.

He was mad at the entertainers for not understanding why the servers hated them, for not understanding how it felt to be lesser just because there were people deemed 'better' just for having a more interesting job. He was mad at the servers for allowing themselves to feel like they weren't as good as the entertainers, for isolating the four of them just because they felt inferior. Neither group was right, but he was just left feeling so confused with no idea who to blame or what to think. Thinking about it made his head hurt.

When he got home, he dumped the tips off in the tin and went straight to bed to sleep off a headache. The following day he gave the invitation to Jeremy and his address to Freddy a little reluctantly. He and Freddy exchanged numbers, too, so the entertainer could give him a call before driving to his house Saturday afternoon.

By the time Freddy called him at 1:56, he was dreading it. He couldn't back out though, since Freddy was on his way. He brushed out his floppy brown hair, trying to keep it from falling into his eyes. He hated events like this. He just didn't want to upset Chica who had been looking at him with such hopeful eyes.

He frowned at his reflection in the mirror, giving up on trying to make himself look better. Nothing was going to fix his too small eyes or crooked nose he'd gotten from a bike accident. And his clothes were plain enough to make him blend into the background. There was no point in trying to change that.

He stomped downstairs to wait for Freddy after grabbing the tin, pacing on the sidewalk until the black car pulled up. Freddy rolled down the window.

"You'll have to get in the back, Mike. Foxy's sister needs the front. Oh, and when we get there I'm going to need your help," he said. He waited for Mike to climb into the back seat.

"So they're coming?"

"They are. They decided not to be antisocial this time around," Freddy joked. Mike just nodded and let the conversation die since he didn't know this woman well enough to judge. He looked over when Freddy turned on the radio, flipped through the stations for a minute, then left it alone in what seemed like frustration. It was playing some kind of country song he'd never heard before. "Sorry, I'm still getting used to the car. It's not mine."

"Borrowing it?"

"I am, in fact. Mine's in the shop."

Mike looked back out the window as they pulled up to a building that looked like it probably should be torn down some time in the near future. One of the windows were boarded up and most of the rest of the upper ones were grimy. An outer light flickered by the dark door to the apartment building. Freddy honked and the door creaked open. Foxy walked over, tapping on the window until Freddy decided to roll it down.

"Took you long enough," he muttered. The driver offered a grin.

"I got lost. You know how I am."

"I think you just took your time leaving. Hello, Mike."

"Hey, Foxy."

"So Mike, he just needs your help with the doors," Freddy said, reaching over to the passenger seat and starting to pull at the latch to adjust it. Mike got out curiously and followed Foxy to the building. He opened the door and held it while Foxy went in. When the came came out a minute later, he was pushing a girl in a wheelchair.

The woman smiled at Mike, showing off a row of perfect, sharp white teeth. She had the same yellow eyes as her brother, through Mike thought they were a little softer and certainly less piercing or captivating as Foxy's vulpine ones. While she had almost the same face as her brother, sharp pointed nose, long face, she didn't look as severe as him. She had fuller cheeks and lips, less defined eyes, a slightly rounder face. She was paler too, with thinner skin. He was much darker. Her hair, cut just below her shoulder blades, was less of a red and more of a strawberry blond instead. If they both shared one trait without any variation between the two of them, it was how bone thin they were, half starved in appearance. Mike got the weird sense it was completely natural, not a look either of them were trying for.

"You must be Mike," she said. She had that same accent her brother had that Mike couldn't quite identify. Lightly Scottish or English or something. "Fox tells me about you."

"He does?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow at the taller man. He had no idea they were even really considered friends.

"He does. You can call me Mangle."

"Marg-"

"Fox, I like the nickname," she said, cutting her brother off firmly. She glared up at him. "It's not insulting or hurtful as you think it is. It's the same as calling you Foxy. Stop controlling me."

Foxy grumbled but didn't say anything else. He just wheeled her to where Freddy was waiting in the parking lot. He put the lock into place and motioned for Mike to catch up.

"Hold the chair still," he ordered. Mike grabbed onto the handles. Foxy slid his good arm under her legs, she threw an arm over his shoulders, and his prosthetic between the chair. He lifted her out of it and Mike felt his own muscles tense in alarm.

"You sure you don't-?"

"I don't need help lifting her, I just need you to get the car door," Foxy answered. Mike scrambled to open it. He watched as Foxy gently set her in the passenger seat with some help from Freddy. She beamed at them in thanks and her brother folded up the wheelchair and tossed it into the trunk. Foxy went to handle of the door behind her seat but stopped when Mike's hand got there first.

"You're taller. You should take the other side," Mike said, motioning to the little room behind Mangle's seat which had been pulled back further to make it easier to get her into the car. Foxy smiled at him gratefully and walked around to the other side. He slid into the back and pushed the other door open for Foxy. He happened to look up at the mirror and caught Freddy smiling at him.

"All set?" their driver asked. They nodded.

They got to Bonnie's house just as Jeremy's car was pulling into the driveway. He hopped out and joined Freddy in getting the wheelchair while Foxy and Mike worked together to get Mangle out of the car. The moment they had her back in her chair, Bonnie raced out and dragged Freddy off, muttering something about being 'too nervous for life.' Mike looked to the others for an explanation and received only confused looks.

Chica was calmer when she came out to greet them, though she squealed when she saw Mangle. She went over to her first and they embraced with sweet cries of delight.

"I'm so glad you could come! I was worried you wouldn't!" Chica exclaimed, pulling back to look the woman over. She couldn't stop smiling.

"It's been too long, Chica. I could not stay away. I'd be around more often if my brother didn't worry as much as he does."

"How have you been?"

Chica took the handles and wheeled her into the house, waving a hand for the three men to come in as well. Jeremy whistled.

"So that's what women are like," he joked. Foxy laughed. He led them in and showed them to the living room. He pointed out where the beer was in case they wanted one and that they could help themselves. They could hear the voices of them women which carried from the kitchen. They were talking about dating which made the men roll their eyes.

"You mentioned Mangle being sick?" Mike asked quietly. Foxy took a while to answer, settling in an armchair before looking up at the server.

"She's doing better. She's fine. I know what she said, but... do me a favor and don't call her that around me. Her name's Margaret."

"Where'd the nickname come from?" Jeremy asked. Foxy sighed through his teeth and ran a hand over his face.

"A car accident."

The two men winced at the answer and nodded. Mike retrieved a bottle for him. They were joined shortly by the girls and about ten minutes later Freddy and a twitchy Bonnie walked up.

"Let's do a dancing-slash-singing competition!" Chica excitedly suggested. Her guests playfully groaned at the idea. Bonnie and Freddy were the first two to agree to go as Chica dug out the Wii her boyfriend had stashed beneath his TV. She got the game set up for them and the rest sat down to watch them make fools of themselves.

Freddy selected a song at random and grinned when it turned out to be an easy one. As the first notes began to play, he struck a pose and got into position while Bonnie playfully gave their audience a quizzical look as if he didn't know the song. He clumsily tried to copy the pictures on the screen. He flailed his arms and almost hit Freddy, knocking the larger man a little off balance. He started to wiggle at Chica, no longer paying attention to where his dance partner was. He yelped suddenly when he was hip checked and struggled for balance, ending up sprawled across Jeremy's lap. They burst out laughing. The game dissolved, though after some prodding from Chica they were able to get back on track.

Through peer pressure, they managed to get Foxy up and dancing with Mike who, much to his chagrin, couldn't even get one move right while Foxy was able to get perfect on every single one. Mike ended the round by tripping Foxy, and while the taller man was able to recover, he shot a nasty glare at the younger.

But the highlight of the night was when Bonnie asked Chica to dance with him. Mike and Jeremy whistled and cheered as a flushing Chica joined her boyfriend in front of the TV. Part of the way through the dance, he stopped trying. He took her hand in his and spun her.

"Hey Chica?"

"Yes?"

"I… have something to ask."

"What is it?"

"Chica will you…" he smoothly dropped down onto one knee. "Will you marry me?"


	5. So You'll Come Again

Words: 2097  
Written: March 13, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy, Mangle, Freddy  
Warnings: _Humanized, subject of parental abandonment  
_AN: I'm so sorry for making the mistake of posting chapter 4 as this one! Thanks to Ionamoon and the two guest reviewers for letting me know about the mistake so I could fix it! I'll be getting the next chapter up later day. Thank you for all the kind words and support

* * *

"Oh… oh my… Yes!" Chica squealed in utter delight, holding out her hand so Bonnie could slip the ring onto her finger. The second she was wearing it she gave another excited sound and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Oh, Bonnie! I can't believe it! We're going to get married!"

Bonnie laughed and smiled at her with sheer love and happiness in his eyes as he gently gave her a kiss. The others cheered and clapped for them. When they pulled away, Freddy clapped his shoulder.

"I told you, you had nothing to worry about," he said. Bonnie gave him a sheepish grin. He gave the couple space and allowed the others to say their congratulations. Mangle pulled Chica aside to get a look at the ring before giving her best friend a solid hug. Foxy shook hands with Bonnie then gave him a quick squeeze then was pulled into a bone crushing hug by the over excited bride-to-be.

"Thanks guys, for coming. I needed the courage to propose and well… you're family to me an' her. So I thought it'd be fitting if you were here to help encourage me an' see it all. I'm glad you came," Bonnie said. He smiled at Freddy, Foxy, and Mangle then over at Mike and Jeremy. "That means you guys, too! I know we're not close or anything, but you're part of the Fazbear family. And we can always change that gap. If you want to."

They exchanged a glance. Mike then offered Bonnie a smile which seemed to put the man at ease.

He then excused himself to go outside and get some air. He wandered out onto the back deck and leaned against the railing and looked around at the rather shabby looking backyard. It looked like someone had started a little garden in the corner that they were still trying to get to stick. So far it was just a few flowers sprinkled here or there with patches of dirt between them. It was pretty peaceful out there and he found that he liked it better than the hustle and bustle inside the house.

He was drawn from his thoughts when the wood of the deck creaked. He looked over his shoulder to find Mangle wheeling her way over to him without any sign of her brother.

"Isn't it pretty?" She said lightly. She stopped beside him, reaching out to touch the railing.

"I guess you could call it that."

"I love it back here. It's... freeing. I used to come out here all the time. Chica and I would spend the whole day just laying in the grass and watching the clouds. Bonnie's put up an inflatable pool a couple of times, and he would also have me help him chase Freddy down to throw him in the water," she admitted. She gave him a distant smile, like things had once been so much better and she hated that change but had no choice but to accept it. "But then Foxy and I stopped coming around and I heard that something Goldie did with Freddy made the pool pop and we never heard anything else about it."

"Why'd you stop coming?" Mike asked. The woman laughed, throwing her head back as she did. It was such a bitter sound… He regretted opening his mouth.

"It's a long story but… basically he had a falling out with the others. And then because I have the wheelchair, it's hard for me to get over here without his help and someone to drive us. I don't go much of anywhere without Foxy anymore. We're really all we have."

"Don't you have family?"

Mangle shook her head and sighed. She started to play with the necklace she wore and Mike tried to get a better look at it without her noticing, but with her hand in the way all he could see was the worn metal chain it hung on.

"We joke that Fox was the accident… and that I was the mistake," she answered. She cut him off when it looked like he was going to protest and say the obvious 'you're no such thing.' "Our parents hated kids, Mike. They didn't want a family. So when they found out they were going have Fox… they decided they didn't support abortion so they'd have him and try their best to raise him. They weren't doing too well but they were managing. Then I happened. Our father left at that point, deciding that just the one was way too much, and our mother tried for about a year to manage the two of us. That didn't work out, so she dumped us with one of her friends because they had two children already and were doing fine and ran off.

"That family took care of us for a few months but when it became clear our mother wasn't coming back to get us, they had to hand us over and get us into foster care. As soon as Fox was old enough to live on his own, he took me with him and got us out of there. It was harder for him than for me, I think."

"Why?"

"Most of the foster families had no idea what they were getting into with him. It's hard having a disabled kid. So half the families wanted him to get used to using a prosthetic and didn't want to see him without it. The rest thought it would be better for everyone if he got used to not having one, so they put it away so he couldn't use it. He knew what they thought about him too, and it caused a lot of problems for my brother. The only reason we were even kept together was because people thought it would be easier for him if he had someone who knew how to help take care of him."

"That's… I had no idea," Mike said. He glanced back inside through the window to where Bonnie and Foxy were wrestling. The wide grin on his face didn't give the image of a hard past or uncertain future. And it didn't look like he was dealing with a 'falling out' with the others. There were just so many pieces of the puzzle missing that Mike just couldn't make sense of any of it. He didn't know if things were getting better or worse for the entertainers either.

"Are you friends with Fox?" Mangle asked suddenly. Mike glanced down at her, puzzled and unsure. He just shrugged since that was a really good question. And he didn't have an answer. "I was just thinking, if you are friends then maybe you wouldn't mind coming for a visit?"

"I'm not sure he's gonna be open to that idea, Mangle," he replied hesitantly, his eyes returning to Foxy. The woman waved off the comment.

"He wouldn't say to me, my dear. Are you afraid of Fox?" she pressed. Mike tried to laugh. Really, he did. But the noise he made was closer to choking than a dismissive laugh. Was he afraid of Foxy? The man had never given him reason to be, but he also hardly knew the guy. He did seem harmless enough, but he'd gotten an idea of how strong Foxy really was, and that was pretty darn strong despite how fragile he looked. He didn't want that turned on him, and it seemed like he did have a nasty temper if someone said the wrong thing. But did that reluctance to be left alone with a man that could probably kill him if he wanted to mean he was _afraid_?

Yes, yes it probably did.

Mangle seemed extremely amused as she turned her chair and went back inside, calling out to catch her brother's attention. He stopped what he was doing and looked over.

"What is it?" he asked. Mangle shot him a sweet, endearing smile.

"Would you mind at all if Mike came for a visit, after the party?"

Foxy looked between them and said, "I don't really care, no. If you want him to come over, he can. But I'm not entertaining him, I have work later."

"Wait, you're working tonight?" Freddy interrupted. "Where?"

"I didn't tell you? I got that the job I applied for, I've been going straight from your restaurant to another job almost every night."

"Foxy! You could have just told me you needed more hours! I would have gotten my dad to give them to you! We could help you, you know that!"

"I can't always turn to your family for money, Fredrick! I know that your father already hates me working there, so why would I make that worse?" Foxy snapped.

"He listens to me, most of the time! I could have easily gotten you the hours! He'd love that you're trying to get more work!"

"So he doesn't think I'm trying hard enough?!"

"That's not what I'm saying, Foxy! You're always twisting my words!"

"I do no such thing. You know your father would fire me the first chance he got. Admit it! I'm only still working there because you won't let him fire me. I'm surprised he hasn't gone and cut my hours to send me searching for another job!"

"He wouldn't have to if you _stopped missing shifts!"_

Foxy looked wounded and headed for the front door, giving Freddy a glare over his shoulder that seemed to make the bigger man pause. "I'm doing what I have to _survive_, Fred. Leave my methods alone."

The door of the house snapped shut, coating the occupants of the room with a hard silence. Freddy was still seething, by the look of it. He muttered a quick apology to the others for putting such a damper on the mood. He went out to the kitchen and stayed there for a while to let himself calm down from the frustration of dealing with his most stubborn friend. Chica headed outside with a sigh, determined to fix the situation.

"Sorry," Bonnie said to Mike and Jeremy. He rubbed at his arm then started to pace. "We're not setting a good example for you guys, are we? It's not always like this, honest. I don't want you to think that all we do is fight. Freddy's just protective and Foxy's…"

"Completely and utterly against asking for help from anyone?" Mangle suggested. Bonnie smiled at her both in sympathy and thanks.

"Yeah. That."

"We're not holding anything against any of you," Jeremy said. They smiled a little at his words. The entertainer pulled them over to sit on the couch while they waited for Freddy to leave the safe haven of the kitchen and for Chica to bring Foxy back inside.

They turned to conversation, and as they talked Bonnie got progressively more animated. It got to the point that he was waving his arms almost manically as he recalled a food fight the staff of Fazbear's Pizza had gotten into one morning when the restaurant was slow. They only just kept him from overturning a tray of treats teetering on the edge of the table. Mike pulled the table a little further from where Bonnie was standing in a preemptive attempt to keep it from falling only for Bonnie to scramble back and fall over it anyways when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He landed on his back in a sea of popcorn and chips.

"Are you okay?" Chica asked through snickers. Foxy didn't bother to stifle his own laughter, and the noise drew a calmer Freddy from the kitchen to see what they had done this time. The downed man's face flushed in embarrassment as he struggled back to his feet.

"I'm okay," he muttered. Freddy pulled him back up. "So, you guys good?"

"I'm… sorry, Fred. I'll try to come to you in the future, if you don't comment on my ways of keeping my sister and I afloat, deal?" Foxy proposed, offering a hand to Freddy to shake. The bigger man didn't hesitate to agree, using the outstretched hand to pull him into a tight hug that made Foxy yelp and lightly, playfully protest at the action. But for all his objections, he still patted Freddy's back and smiled kindly at him. After a minute, Fazbear's smile faded and died.

"I… have some bad news," he mumbled. The others looked at him in worry and concern, dreading whatever it was that had Freddy hesitating to speak. "I heard from Goldie a few days ago. She's coming for a visit."


	6. And Join

Words in Chapter: 2154  
Written: March 14, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, Mangle, mentions of others  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

The entertainers all looked toward Foxy who seemed to have paled at the very mention of Freddy's twin sister. He glanced at the people around the room then gave a nervous little laugh. He gratefully took his sister's hand when she reached out to touch his.

"I'm going to find an excuse to skip town for a couple days… or _months_," he mumbled.

Mike and Jeremy were once again completely confused. Everyone else seemed sympathetic or at the very least concerned. And Foxy looked like someone had asked him to go bullfighting or to swallow a nest of bees or something! They were never told the whole story, and it was beginning to make Mike angry. Goldie was just Freddy's sister, and she was pretty to boot. So why did it make the others, including the one Mike would be the least likely to want to upset, act like it was a death sentence? It just didn't make sense! _Normal_ people would be jumping at the chance to get a hot girl to pay them a visit. But he was beginning to realize that Freddy and friends are so very far from normal it was practically painful.

"You're coming over still, right Mike?" Mangle asked to change the unpleasant conversation. Mike shot a wary glance at Foxy but when the taller man didn't do anything threatening, he nodded.

"I might as well drive you there now then," Freddy said. He herded them out to his car and, after saying their goodbyes to the happy couple and Jeremy who had chosen to stay for a while longer, he got them into the car without any incidents. That was saying something with this group, it seemed.

Mike slid into the back seat to sit beside Foxy. He looked over when Mangle turned in her seat enough to grin at the two of them. He glanced at the necklace, finally able to see that it looked like some sort of staff with an arch attached at the bottom of the curve to a long handle. Where the two pieces connected, there was a little ruby set into it that sparkled beautifully against the gold.

"You like Egypt?" he asked. He pointed to the gleaming necklace when both Foxy and Mangle looked confused. They both looked to it at the same time; she gained a wicked smile while Foxy's eyes narrowed. She raised a hand to play with the chain, not looking over at her brother even once.

"Oh, my, yes. I adore Egypt. Isn't this a beautiful necklace? Freddy gave it to me years ago."

"As a joke," Freddy said through laughter. He tried not to look away from the road even though he wanted to see Foxy's expression, since he knew the redhead would be absolutely seething. "I thought you told us you'd thrown it out!"

"I did no such thing," she innocently replied. "I've had it the whole time, I just didn't wear it since I know how much it bothers Foxy Woxy."

Foxy's expression screamed that if she wasn't his little sister, she would be dead by now. He looked _murderous._ But he kept quiet while the others continued to tease him, likely either because Mike was were, or because it was Freddy and Mangle. Mike couldn't tell which it was, but whatever kept him from snapping probably wouldn't work for long.

And he was right, for the moment the car came to a stop, Foxy practically leapt from the car. Freddy sent Mike ahead to try to talk to the other entertainer while he helped Mangle with her chair. He looked at Freddy as if he was insane but reluctantly followed Foxy into the decrepit looking building.

The wallpaper that decorated the main hall was a putrid colour, something of a creamy yellow mixed with dirt brown. It was peeling and for a second Mike was tempted to pull on the end just to see how much of it would fall away. Or crumble if he so much as breathed on the patterned material. He glanced around and spotted the rickety stairs off to the right, the walls plastered from one end to the other with different papers serving as advertisements, job opportunities, lost people posters, you name it. He wondered how the owner could even charge money for someone to live there, since the place stunk and he wouldn't have been surprised if an army of rats suddenly darted out of the dark toward the exit. Then he wondered why Foxy and Mangle even chose to stay there for any length of time. Surely they had to have another option…

He stopped when he heard a grunt followed by the slam of a door meeting a wall suddenly. He caught a glimpse of Foxy stepping into an open apartment in the dim, flickering light provided by the dying bulb that tried to light the whole hallway. He glanced back toward the main entrance then, though every instinct seemed to shout for him to back away, followed Foxy.

The apartment that the siblings shared was much better than the rest of the building. It was almost strangely organized, with the furniture as far from doorways as they could get it, which resulted in everything being bunched together, and as little of it as possible. He realized it was probably to make things easier for Mangle than for Foxy. The shelves were all at a height that Mangle could reach so she could keep her independence and Foxy wouldn't need to be there to help her at every moment. There was a tiny television pressed against the far wall, a box against it that a quick glance inside revealed to be a variety of movies that lacked any sort of theme to make them similar. Everything about their house seemed crowded and disjointed but in a way that made it all feel endearing instead of uncomfortable.

The only things that were at a normal height, were the pictures that took up as much space as they could. They had pictures of all of their friends that had been taken throughout the years. There was a picture of a teenaged Bonnie presenting a shy Chica a sloppy rose he'd made for her in art class. There was one of Freddy and Bonnie drenched in paint after a prank had gone wrong in grade school with a blurry, cackling Foxy in the background. One of Mangle, standing tall and proud in a gymnast's attire beside a girl Mike had never seen before, with no wheelchair in sight. One of Foxy, with both eyes and a wide grin, helping Freddy hold the mysterious Goldie up so she could reach a balloon that had gotten stuck up on the ceiling.

As the people in the pictures aged… the mood of them shifted from light and happy to something less so. Foxy was in fewer of them, and if he was there it was only in those with Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy present. Mangle then only appeared by herself with others they clearly weren't in contact with anymore, or in pictures with her brother.

Then all of a sudden the pictures just sort of… stopped. There weren't any recent ones, none of them depicting a wheelchair confined Mangle or a half blind Foxy. While in every picture he was without an arm, he always had two working eyes. And she was always caught doing something active.

Foxy cleared his throat and Mike, who hadn't been aware of where the man was, jumped back in alarm. He blushed, not looking up into the yellow eyes. Thankfully, it seemed like Foxy had calmed down enough to not look like he wanted to rip anything that got in his way to shreds anymore, though he still looked fairly annoyed. Eager to shift Foxy's attention to something else, Mike pointed to a photograph of Mangle hugging a little brunette at what looked to be a gymnastics competition.

"Who is that?"

Foxy had to get closer to it to see the girl's features, and when he did an expression of confusion came over his face.

"I think her name was Nancy… I don't remember much about her, we were only with her family a few weeks."

"A foster family?"

"Yes… That was a family I was happy to leave behind," he said. He stepped away from Mike to study the pictures briefly. He trailed his hand along the wall until he found the one he wanted. He offered it to the shorter man. It was taken, though reluctantly, so Mike could better see the smiling faces of Mangle and her friends. She sat at the center of it all, with a grin so wide it was impossible for a moment to imagine her any other way. Goldie was frozen with her head tipped back so her mouth was open in laughter, with Chica almost mirroring her on the other side of Mangle. Freddy stood behind his twin, his hands on her shoulders to keep her from falling off the bench. Bonnie was leaning on Chica's back. They were all looking away from the camera, as if the picture had been taken without any of them being aware of the fact the camera even existed. In Mangle's lap seemed to be the source of the commotion: a small red box with contents Mike couldn't quite make out.

"Your favourite?" he asked. He could feel Foxy's presence at his shoulder acutely and it made him tighten his grip on the wooden frame without realizing it. He felt more than heard the affirmative grunt. "You're not in it."

"I was in the hospital when it was taken."

Mike looked more closely at the picture and could see that, mostly hidden by the arms of Chica and Goldie, the top of Mangle's wheelchair was visible. The girl's face was pale, her eyes tired and red, but she still smiled at whatever gift she had been given. Behind them, blocked by Freddy's shoulder, was a birthday banner. His stomach dropped uncomfortably.

Suddenly he could see it in all of their faces; it was a picture of a family trying hard to stay strong together in the face of a terrible, unforeseen accident. One that stripped Mangle of what she prided herself on most. One that would likely have made Foxy's life that much more difficult, as if missing an arm wasn't bad enough.

They had been used to dealing with something of a handicap before, but after that accident they were trying to cope with more than ever before. Mike could see now why Foxy's arm wasn't a sensitive topic. Why would it be? He'd been that way his entire life, so it wasn't that big of a deal. But Mangle's wheelchair, the nickname, needing help to move her, that was a dangerous ground. A lot more dangerous than innocent questions about whether or not Foxy was used to needing prosthetics or if he was partially blind.

Foxy had always been at a disadvantage. Mangle, no, Margaret, had never been.

So there was a good chance she was adopting Foxy's behaviour where their disabilities were concerned because she didn't want to dwell on them, while he was more protective because he understood that it wasn't okay to just brush it all off like that. It was a big deal, and he wanted her to accept that so he could support her properly. They were on such fragile ground that it was impossible to find anywhere safe to stand.

He wanted to talk to Foxy more, to ask about what had happened and how to help but couldn't when Freddy and Mangle finally decided to join them. They saw the picture Mike still had clutched in his hands, and Mangle turned wide eyes on her brother. She went to grab it at the same time he did, and he was the one to pull away with the spoils.

"O-oh… Fox…" she whispered, letting her gaze drop to the floor. He put the photo back into its place toward the bottom in the corner before giving her a solid hug. When he pulled away, she reached up and unhooked the chain and grabbed his prosthetic by the wrist, turning it so it was palm up. She dumped the necklace into his hand. "I'm sorry, I know how much you hate that necklace… I shouldn't have worn it."

"Keep it," Foxy said as he put it back around her neck. He ignored the stunned looks she and Freddy were sending his way. "They gave it to you, didn't they? I want you to wear it. It looks… good on you."

She gave him a watery smile; they were still uncertainly rebuilding broken bridges that bore the scars of past mistakes. But it was nice, seeing them even just a little bit happier. They'd get to the bottom of it sooner or later.


	7. Our Family

Words in Chapter: 2134  
Written: March 15, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Freddy, Foxy, Mangle, Bonnie, Chica, Goldie  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

Freddy didn't go straight home after dropping off his friends. Instead, he wandered the city in his car until the streets were so dark even the streetlights could hardly break the gloom. Up above him, the stars twinkled merrily. He wished he could join them, far from the toils and troubles of humanity. The stillness of night made him jealous, though, since he could feel sick dread slumbering in his chest. As much as he was glad to see his sister again, he really wished she would stay away. She was going to make her visit unpleasant, which made it so he couldn't even begin to feel the excitement he knew he should be brimming with. He almost wanted to send her away, to save them all the headache. But she was family. Family doesn't turn family out.

There were a few lonely lights on in his house when the car rolled to a stop in the driveway. He took his time walking up, playing with the keys and slowly unlocking the door. He kicked off his shoes on the mat and shut the door, searching for any signs of human life. Everything was as he left it, excluding the light being on when he had shut it off on his way out, and there was a new set of shoes on the mat that didn't belong to him.

He followed the lights, flipping them off as he went to save power, up to his bedroom. He stopped outside of the room, not able to bring himself to look inside. He could hear her rustling some papers. Seeing her was inevitable, he reasoned with himself. She was in his house and would be there for a few days at the very least. And he doubted she even had a job which would take her from the house so he'd run into her sooner or later. Might as well go in on his terms.

"Gold," he called, stepping into view. She looked up, her ocean blue eyes flashing with a smile when she saw him. She beckoned him over, embracing him as soon as he'd sat down on the edge of the bed. While she had always been a tiny thing compared to him, since she'd taken after their rather petite mother, God rest her soul, he normally couldn't feel her bones beneath her skin like he could now. He pulled away and he assumed she'd seen the worry in his eyes for she immediately launched into an explanation.

"I've sorta run out of money, Freddy. That's why I came back. I thought I'd stay with you for a little while, just until I've gotten myself back on track. I'll even take my old job again at the restaurant, to save up."

"Goldie, while you're welcome to stay here, I'm... not so sure that's a good idea. To jump back into the family business after being away so long… You've probably forgotten how to wait the tables, and deal with the tills, and…"

"Freddy," she said gently, cutting him off. She took his much larger hands into hers and traced the scars that covered his palms from working in the food industry for so long. He'd been there for years, and his skin showed it. He wasn't always the most careful person when picking up hot plates… "I know what I put you through, and I'm sorry. Really, I never meant to cause you any harm. So I plan to make up for it. And since I know that in our family money's never really a concern, I hope to make it up to you in another way."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're first, and only, real love is that restaurant. So I want to help there, to learn the business and be part of it all again, like you asked me to before I left. Do you remember? I'll be a good worker and follow all the rules. You just have to give me another chance. I don't plan to leave again any time soon."

"You're going to leave Fox alone," Freddy ordered. Goldie looked incredibly disappointed but she made a cross over her heart and nodded. "And if any of the others ask you to stay away, you'll do that too. They're valued employees and my friends."

"_Our_," she corrected, sounding hurt. She set aside the book she'd been reading to give herself the room to cuddle up against her twin. She pressed her head against his chest. "They're my friends too, Freddy. I know I haven't been around but… I didn't think anyone wanted me to stay, at the time."

"What happened between you and-"

"I know, I know, it was just me misreading signals and overreacting. I shouldn't have pushed the way I did, and I should have accepted what happened. I've grown since then. How are the others doing, anyway? Are Chica and Bonnie still together?"

"They're engaged," Freddy replied proudly. He grinned at her surprise and chuckled. She pulled him into another hug, squeezing her brother tight.

"That's marvellous! I always knew those two would end up together! Now if I could only get you into a relationship…" she teased. He groaned and rose to his feet, heading toward the door. Goldie felt her smile start to fade. "You're still alone?"

"Does it look like anyone is living here with me? Besides, what are my options? Fox? Mangle? I know he's still not interested in a relationship and would kill anyone who so much as tried to flirt with his little sister. And I'm busy with the restaurant. You said it yourself, didn't you? I love the place," he replied. Regret filled his sister at his words and she stood. She made her way past him and bade him goodnight. She headed down the hall to the first door on her left and was turning the door when he called out once more. "You can come to work with me tomorrow, Gold. I'll train you in the morning and you'll wait tables in the afternoon. But I'm warning you, stay away from Fox or I'll have no choice but to take you back here."

"Understood, sir," she replied with a smile. She waited to hear the click of his door shutting to sneak down the hall to where the cordless phone rested in its cradle. She picked it up and settled on the couch, already flipping through the contacts he had in it.

'_Bonnie… Chica… Father's house… Foxy, there we are.'_

She pressed talk and listened to the long, shrill rings and chewed her lip as she waited. She was about to give up, for it had nearly reached the answering machine, when the line connected and she heard his deep, gruff voice. A shiver of excitement raced down her spine and she savored hearing him again for the first time in years.

She hung up, shaking and grinning. She gingerly put the phone back into place just in case he decided to call back. It became clear a minute or two later that he wasn't going to, so she headed back to the guest room. All she could think was: '_it's great to be home.'_

* * *

Mike woke up early the next morning and with a horrible crick in his neck from sleeping on the little couch that looked like Foxy had found by a dumpster somewhere. Its springs were pressing into his back almost painfully, but that was nowhere near as bad as how short the thing was compared to the one he had at home. They'd been nice enough to pull out some extra bedding for him but it hadn't made the experience much better.

He looked around and caught sight of the dark, tattered jacket Foxy loved to wear thrown over the back of a dining room chair. He smiled a little, glad to see that Foxy had come home last night after his shift by the look of it. The man had offered his bed to Mike since it was much more comfortable than the rickety old couch, but he'd refused since he figured Foxy would need it more than him since he worked longer and harder hours. He wanted to leave it open in case the redhead wanted to crash for a couple hours before his shift at the restaurant started. While he hadn't said anything, the taller man had looked thankful at the offer. It was starting to get easier for Mike to read his expressions.

He could hear an alarm going off and decided to lay there waiting. The alarm was shut off with a disgruntled noise. Footsteps stomped toward him and when he stopped in the doorway, Mike almost bust a gut laughing. Foxy's fiery hair was sticking up at the oddest of angles. A few strands hung in front of his face down to his lips, but most of it decided to shoot up into the air. It was practically a bedhead caused afro. He was scowled at so he tried, and rather pathetically failed, to stop laughing.

"Cut it out before I cut you," Foxy growled, storming off toward the kitchen. He kept his hand pressed against the scarred eye and when Mike was calm enough to be able to get a sentence he asked about it. All he got was a clipped, "Headache."

"Here, let me help with breakfast," Mike offered, stopping to stand beside the taller man. He expected to be brushed aside and was pleasantly surprised when Foxy nodded and started to pull out the pan and ingredients necessary to make pancakes from scratch.

After a while he found Foxy to be more of a hindrance than a help, since the pain was keeping him from functioning properly and they kept brushing against each other. If Mike moved to pull open the stove door, he ended up pinning the other man against the counter. He finally just sent him away and watched as he wandered out to lay down on the couch, his hand once again against his eyes.

"Gonna take painkillers for that?" Mike asked in concern. He frowned a little when Foxy just grunted. He finished the pancakes, plated them, then brought one over for the tired man. He fell into the chair that the jacket hung from and ate while keeping an eye on his friend. "You sure you're doing well enough to go to work? You like awful."

"I can't skip work. I'll get fired," he answered. He sat up properly. He ate a couple of bites then left the plate on the kitchen, putting the rest of the prepared pancakes in the fridge for Mangle to eat when she got up for school. "Hurry up, we've got a bus to catch."

"You're not eating?"

"Not hungry. I have to get dressed, you should be ready by the time I'm done or we'll be late," Foxy instructed. He left the room. Mike did the dishes while he waited for him to return, going back to looking at the pictures until Foxy came out.

They left right away, taking the bus that came exactly two minutes after they walked up. He could see why the man was out of the house so early, the bus ride took half an hour just to get close to the restaurant. His own ride was only about ten minutes, and even that was a fair distance to walk. For Foxy it would be nearly impossible. And the bus system was ridiculously unreliable. He'd found that out the hard way.

Mike expected the entertainer to head right back to the change room to get into costume, since they only had about half an hour until the doors opened, but Foxy stayed back to stand with him at the door.

"Going to get ready?"

"Would you… give me a hand with getting dressed? I'll need the help since I don't have my other prosthetic… I can do it on my own, but…"

"I'll help," Mike said with a smile, feeling slightly honoured at being asked to do something as personal as helping with the arm. "I don't have any practice putting one of those things onto someone."

"You don't need any. I'll tell you what to do."

They went back together, still in the middle of chatting, only to stop upon finding that they weren't the only ones using the room. Freddy was in the middle of trying to help Goldie into the jacket of her own costume. Foxy froze at the same moment that Goldie looked up with a grin. She shrugged off the arm she had half on and bounded across the room, tightly catching the tall redhead in a strong hug. He gasped. She laughed.

"Oh, Foxy, it's so good to see you!"


	8. Even When

Words in Chapter: 2201  
Written: March 16, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Freddy, Goldie, Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, Jeremy, Mangle  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

"Goldie..." Freddy warned. He didn't move to stop her, but the threat was clear in his voice. She didn't let go but. Instead, she pulled away to look up at Foxy's face, clicking her tongue and touching his cheek where the deep scar ended. The man flinched beneath her touch.

"I forgot you had that... It's a shame, really. You're such a handsome man, and it takes away from that a little. Good for the role though... You still act as the pirate, don't you?" Goldie continued to rub her thumb across his cheek until he finally managed to push her away. He shoved past her, glowering at Freddy, and slammed open his locker. He dug around inside for a while, found what he was looking for, then tossed Mike a red skull and crossbone patterned bandana.

"Put that on, you're helping me today," he ordered. Mike stared at him then glanced over at Freddy.

"Is that even allowed?"

"I don't argue with him. Just stay close to him, and do what he says. And, Gold? Fox? Stay away from each other," Freddy said. He grabbed his sister's arm and finished getting her into the golden coat, the black top hat finished with gold bear ears, and handed her the matching black bowtie. She reluctantly tied it into place, watching Mike get his bandana into place. Foxy teasingly wolf whistled at the man which made Goldie frown. Freddy took her from the room before she could cause any more trouble.

"So... What is it you expect me to do?" Mike asked. Foxy's expression softened from the aloof look of dislike into something infinitely warmer. He pulled out the rest of the costume and carried it over to Mike, setting it on the bench next to the man's leg.

"For today? Do your normal job of waiting the tables, but now you're my first mate. You'll come up with me onto stage, just so Goldie won't get the idea of trying something. I hope you don't mind that I'll be sticking to you today," he replied. He started getting the prosthetic on, and Mike just watched to figure out how to help him with it in the future. Mike had to help him with the jacket since it tried repeatedly to get caught on the hook. Mike picked up the hat with a smile, dusting it off to put it on Foxy's head off center. His yellow eye narrowed and he jerked the bandana down Mike's face, blinding the shorter. They laughed. Once they had their headwear back into position, they headed out into the dining area.

Bonnie raced over to them, laughing when he saw Mike's attire. He patted the man's head.

"There's an extra costume around somewhere if you wanna join the band!" he snickered. Mike's eye roll made him laugh harder. "Wait here, I'm gonna find something better for you to wear! Hold on!"

"He's not actually going to make me wear a costume, is he?" Mike asked. The pirate fox didn't answer beyond a grin. "Foxy…?"

"He wasn't joking when he said we have extra costumes. There are spare costumes for all five of us, and if I remember right we have another spare that we don't use. Another whole character," Foxy answered.

It piqued Mike's curiosity. They already had two bears, from what he saw of Goldie's, a rabbit, a chicken, and a fox. He wondered what other animals they could have decided to make a character out of, and who the costume was even meant for. They didn't talk about any other friends besides those already working there. Unless the outfit was meant for Mangle, but it didn't sound like she had ever worked there and he couldn't see her as anything but a fox if she did choose to be part of the crew. He figured she'd want to work with her brother. She also had the perfect eyes to be a more feminine version of Foxy's character, but he found it hard to picture her wearing a costume similar to his.

"What's the costume of?" he asked. Foxy shrugged.

"Another rabbit. Another gold one, like Goldie's I think. I don't know, I don't wear it and we haven't used it in years."

"Mike!" Bonnie called. Mike turned to the rabbit entertainer. A coat was thrown in his face with a set of ears attached to a wire headband. Foxy and Bonnie waited as he put it on, glaring daggers at them all the while, and they helped him tuck the headband beneath the bandana so the fox ears settled over his real ones. "Now you look like one of the gang!"

"It's a lame costume," he grumbled. The two laughed at the naive man, shaking their heads and smiled. "How can you show your faces after wearing something like this?"

"It's only for today, stop complaining. We do this every day."

* * *

Not even an hour into the day, Mike was regretting ever accepting his temporary role as an entertainer. The kids pulled at his tail, nearly pulling it out of the jacket. They would have if Foxy hadn't made his way over, put his hand on the boy's shoulder, and growled. The poor kid looked horrified for a minute at the sight of the hook but once he was calmer he started asking the million typical questions.

And then the kids kept asking about whether or not he was a new character and what his name was. The first time he was asked that question he hesitated before hesitantly giving him his real name, since he didn't have a stage name like the rest of them. The boy who asked started calling him Mikey and the name stuck. He didn't care, since it was kid friendly and it was a whole lot better than some of the names he himself had thought up.

The part of it he hated most however, was when Foxy had climbed up onto the stage to begin his little skit and Bonnie had almost forcibly put him up there with the original fox pirate. He tripped over everything imaginable as he made his way over, and Foxy had to reach out and grab him to keep him from tumbling to the ground. What was nice to know was that apparently Foxy wouldn't let him crash and burn, if saving him from an embarrassing fall was any indication. He couldn't help but blush until his face was almost the same colour as the entertainer's hair.

Foxy moved to the center of the round stage, drawing the attention away from the stumbling newbie to give him a chance to recover as he introduced himself. Mike flushed all over again when he was described as the 'greatest first mate that sailed the seven seas.' He made a mental note to get Foxy back for that one. He was hauled to his feet and brought to the front to wave and grin shyly at the crowd. He would have run from the stage completely if it wasn't for Foxy's reassuring hand on his back.

"Are ye ready to sing a shanty, me wee lads an' lassies?" the entertainer called. The children from all across the room began to cheer. "Arr, ye can do better than that, ye landlubbers! Ye want to be part of ol' Foxy's crew, aye? Then ye'll 'ave to prove it to me an' the first mate! Let us hear ye all! Are ye ready to sing a shanty?"

A louder cheer went up and Mike was sure he could see some of the parents calling and laughing as well. He relaxed. It wasn't so difficult after all. He felt warm and content next to the taller man, and the kids adored the attention of the pirate. When Foxy spoke, you felt like he was speaking to you, even if he was addressing the crowd. He loved the children as much as they loved him. He was perfect for the job. And Mike was sure he knew it.

Mike had trouble following Foxy through the words of the song, since it was one he'd never heard before in his life. In the end he ended up mouthing what looked like the words while Foxy's strong, deep voice filled the restaurant, flavoured by the cries and cheers of the children who tried to follow along. Freddy and the others joined in from the tables as they waited for the show to end to continue working the tables.

When Foxy wrapped it up, the kids were sad that it had to end. Looking up at Foxy, he could see that the temptation to sing another song was there, especially when they spotted Goldie making her way to the stage. There was a frightened sort of panic there as well, swimming through the golden eyes that darted about in search of escape. Mike made up his mind and snagged Freddy's microphone from its stand and, ignoring the screech that came from it, raised it to his mouth. He could feel the eyes of the servers and entertainers boring into him. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of everyone else.

"S-say kids! I-I mean, arrgh, lil laddies! Who has q-questions for Cap'n F-Foxy? If you come to the stage he'll try to answer 'em!"

The reaction was immediate. Children swarmed the stage and the servers rushed forward to try to keep the little ones from getting hurt. Foxy shot him a look then jumped down to try to help get things settled down. He froze when he felt someone grabbed his arm and he turned to find himself staring into the angry blue eyes of none other than Goldie.

Foxy's name rose in his throat; he choked back the frightened cry to avoid dragging the entertainer into the situation. It was his own fault she was going to kill him, after all. Might as well take the punishment without dragging him down too.

She dragged him into the kitchen, plainly seething. He tried not to cower at the waves of anger just pouring off her. Foxy's anger was nothing compared to hers. She was downright terrifying, and she done nothing to hurt him yet.

"I'm not sure what it is you think you're doing," she spat venomously, leaning into his space as much as she could. He couldn't breathe. "Obviously you're trying to be the hero. You don't need to be. I'm not going to hurt him."

"Y-you're not?"

"No! Of course I'm not!" she screamed. He flinched back, and the action served to make her reconsider her behaviour. In an instant, the anger was hidden behind steel and she regarded him coldly. She tapped her foot and crossed her arms while her eyes drilled into his. "I would never hurt Pharaoh. After all we've been through together, I could never so much as raise a hand against him. He and Fredrick are best friends, so why would I do something to harm someone my brother loves like family? Pharaoh- I mean Foxy, that's what he calls himself, isn't it? -and I just don't see eye to eye. I want him to see just how much I want to be mine, and he wants me on the other side of the world."

"If he doesn't want to be with you… why do you continue to try to force him?" Mike asked softly, afraid of her reaction. To his surprise, she turned away and started to pace, wringing her hands in front of her. Her shoulders had slumped and she looked just as lost as he was.

"I've loved him for such a long time… We used to be so close, and now he sees me as nothing but a nuisance, something that gets in the way. It was always Freddy, Pharaoh, and I, and then after the accident… There was only me. I'd lost even Margaret that day. After having everything, to suddenly have nothing… wouldn't you want it back too?"

"You keep calling him Pharaoh…" Mike prodded, unable to resist learning a piece to the complex puzzle that was Foxy. It seemed like it was something too important to let go, since he felt like if he didn't take the opportunity to ask now, he'd never get another chance.

Her eyes lit up when they lifted to meet hers. The smile she worn then was something sweeter than before.

"He didn't tell you? That's his real name. Pharaoh and Margaret Harrison. I take it he introduces himself just as Foxy, now. He never cared much for his name. You know, the nickname came from my brother. We were never quite sure why Freddy took to calling him that, but it stayed with him, and Pharaoh started to like it. I never understood his choice, since his name is so unique and interesting. I think he was teased a lot in school, or at home, or something. I'll tell you what. If you come with us tonight for drinks, and manage to bring Foxy with you, I'll fill you in on all the little details about his life you could ever want to know. You seem interested. What do you say?"


	9. Things Start Going Wrong!

Words in Chapter: 2065  
Written: March 17, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Freddy, Foxy, Mangle, Goldie, Bonnie, Chica, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized. Implied sex._  
AN: I apologize in advance if anything in the chapter is confusing, I was trying something new. Also, I'm sorry this one was posted so late, I got distracted by fanart. Whoops. Please enjoy.

* * *

_He was spinning. He could feel a chair digging painfully into his back but he couldn't figure out what was making the room spin. He dug his heels into the floor, making the chair come to a sudden stop. The world went still, but his stomach flip flopped painfully. He didn't know where he was; the office he was in was unfamiliar beyond the tiling he recognized from the restaurant. Through blurry eyes, he could make out a poster of some sort, likely an advertisement, but he couldn't tell what for. He didn't recognize the animals on it, that was for sure. Unless… they were were wearing things that reminded him of his friends… _

_Something crashed from outside the little office and he felt a jolt of fear. He tried to stand, to get away from whatever it was that was scaring him. He couldn't. A strap across his waist held him in place; he pulled at it feebly but couldn't seem to find a latch. He started to panic, searching the cluttered desk for anything of use. He nearly knocked a black tablet to the ground. He pulled it close, and clicked it on, finding the view to be that of… the stage? From the restaurant? _

_He felt ice grip his heart as he stared at the three animals perched unmoving on the stage. He glanced at the poster. The ice moved into his veins. He tapped the tablet's screen and it switched to another view. He found it focused on the dining area, with a dark shape standing in the center. _

"_W-who's there…?" _

_The dark shape, a man's shadow, was holding a knife._

_Mike froze, staring at the thin white smile the man was showing the camera. He managed to get his breathing back under control. Feeling numb, he switched cameras only to scream when he found what looked like another one of the animals peering at lens. The hook it wore glowed menacingly in the dull light. Mike dropped the tablet, watching it crash to the floor. _

_It flipped to another camera, showing Mike that man walking toward him. He closed his eyes tightly, desperate to wake from the nightmare. He heard pounding footsteps coming toward him, almost masking the light human ones coming from the right. As the monsters reached him, he heard a human voice, a horribly familiar one tainted by a metallic undertone, call his name. He felt a heavy hand fall to rest on his shoulder just as the light footsteps stopped in the doorway. _

_He forced himself to look, finding a red back facing him, one arm serving as a barrier between him and the man he could hardly see. He reached out, just as the man dressed in purple lunged._

_The red being before him snarled and took the attack for him. They disappeared into a dark haze, and Mike sobbed as he listened to the beings fight. _

_He was sure he was listening to his red friend die._

He awoke with a jolt, his cheek wet with drool. He could hear people laughing and carrying on behind him but didn't bother to turn. He had a headache. He _had_ been sitting with his friends, but it seemed like they'd ditched him or something, since they were nowhere to be seen. He could vaguely remember Freddy threatening to hurt him if anything happened to Goldie or Foxy before storming off, but he could hardly think of a reason why…

The bartender was glaring at him while threateningly cleaning a mug that she looked ready to throw at his head, so he wiped the spit off the counter and went on his way. He figured they should be pretty easy to find, Bonnie's purple hair was a dead give away, Freddy was only just shorter than the abnormally tall redhead he called his friend, Goldie was dropdead gorgeous, and Chica was a tiny thing that would look out of place in the plastic looking bar. But they were nowhere to be found, and he was starting to feel a little worried.

He headed down a hallway in search of them, passing a young couple swapping spit almost in the doorway. He tried a couple doors warily, since he didn't want to walk in on anything, but he was starting to feel anxiety building in his chest. He couldn't remember the others leaving him…

"_Oh! I wasn't expecting to see you, here!" Goldie yelped nervously, stepping back toward the others. She flashed a smile at the man while turning her pleading eyes on her brother. Mike frowned at the worry her behaviour was breeding. The man seemed unassuming enough, big and slimy maybe, especially since he wouldn't show his face, but he didn't seem overly threatening. But she continued to back up until she bumped into Foxy's chest. For once, he didn't push her away._

"_Goldie, you shouldn't be so surprised to run into me. You and I are such good friends," the man replied easily. She laughed a little. _

"_Yeah. Friends."_

Mike shook his head, knocking on the door. There was no answer, so he moved on. He kept looking, feeling a crushing need to find his friends.

When they'd first arrived, Bonnie had said that Goldie always loved this place, but Freddy prefered the other bar. He said it was more friendly than this one, since the other place had more of a homely feeling than the one Goldie liked, which he thought was too industrialized. But she'd chosen the place, so Freddy hadn't complained, though Mike had caught him wearing a look of disappointment as they walked in. The others had seemed to share his opinion, since Chica had sighed a little, and Foxy had grunted when someone smiled at him, but they likewise kept their mouths shut when Goldie praised the place.

Foxy had, extremely reluctantly and with no shortage of complaints, come along though he acted as if he was glued to Bonnie. Mike had found it short of cute, actually. The redhead refused to go more than a few steps from Bonnie's side, as if the moment he left the safety of his friend, Goldie would pounce on him and there would be no escape.

Freddy kept his sister well occupied anyway, since they still had so much to catch up on.

This left the others without the worry of whether or not the two would start to cause a scene. The look of fear that always crept into the yellow eyes of his friend when Goldie was on the prowl made Mike uncomfortable. Foxy was, generally, hard to spook, but all the woman ever had to do was look at him.

Mike had caught Freddy's eye part way through the first hour there and smiled at the man in thanks, which earned him a little nod and a matching tired smile. Fazbear pulled his sister a little closer and they continued to chat about something unimportant.

That was about when things started to go wrong, he thought. He kind of recalled himself saying something in his drunken state that drew her attention to their side of the table, and Goldie brought up Mangle, and so things took a turn for the worse. Maybe that was why Freddy had looked at him as if to say 'if I get my hands on you I will tear you limb from limb and beat you senseless with your own arm.' It was kind of his fault when Foxy had stormed off, and Goldie had run after him. And that in of itself promised trouble.

"_Foxy, hold on, wait a second. I'm sure she didn't mean-" Foxy's harsh laugh cut Chica off. He glared at her, what looked like tears brimming in his eye. He rose to his feet so suddenly he almost knocked the chair over._

"_What's next? She'll say that I'm the reason we're like this? Mangled messes? That it's my fault our family fell apart? That Mangle's so hurt and sickly that I can't leave her alone for more than a day or she'll end up sick enough to be in the hospital?! I can't handle this alone! _I can't do this!" _Foxy screamed. He jabbed a finger in Goldie's face, almost spitting when he spoke next. He was slurring so bad now that it was getting hard to understand him. "If you think you can do any better, then why don't you just take over for me, huh? You never should have come back!"_

_He turned tail and ran. _

Mike bumped into someone. The impact made him stumble and fall on his face, too drunk to care much about the embarrassment it should have caused. He hardly noticed when big, strong hands hauled him up onto his feet once more, and that the hands didn't pull away. He was shaken once.

"Mike? Son, come on, snap out of it."

"Fred?" he slurred. He looked up into the annoyed blue eyes with a semi stupid grin. "Oh. I was lookin' for ya… I think. I'm kinda dizzy."

"I can see that. I'd hoped you were going to stay asleep so I could get you once I found my sister. What were you doing?"

"Tryin' to find 'em… I'm worried."

"So am I," Freddy sighed. He dragged the younger man along behind him as he resumed his search for their wayward friends. They had to stop a few times as Mike got his feet back under him, but Freddy was surprisingly patient with the drunk man. He sat him down, then moved on to knock on the last few doors.

"Who was that?" Mike asked suddenly, the memory of the mysterious man coming to the front of his mind. He could still see the wide brimmed hat casting eerie shadows over the long, gaunt face. The overly thin lips stuck out in his mind, probably because of the way they had curved up into an unpleasant smile when Goldie had practically retreated into Foxy's arms.

Freddy turned to look over at Mike, "I don't know the man. I've never seen him before in my life. But if I were honest, I'd have to admit that even the sight of him makes me a little nervous. Now just hold on a minute, Mike. I don't want you wandering off again."

"Okay, boss man."

The entertainer walked out of sight. To occupy himself, Mike started to hum one of the songs Foxy had performed. He couldn't recall the words, he barely knew even the tune, but he was able to visualize just how into the song the redhead had been and that was enough for him. It made him smile widely. Foxy had a nice smile, even if it was all full of dangerously sharp looking teeth.

_The waitress dropped off the round of drinks, and Foxy was the first to accept his bottle, downing it all in one go. Mike found it odd, since the last time they'd gone drinking, Foxy had been adamantly against having anything to drink, but it was clear it was a regular past time for the man, since he didn't even wince at the burn of his drink. He smacked the bottom of his bottle against the metal table top and reached for another, only for Freddy to reach out and snag his wrist._

"_Not too much, Fox. You should probably avoid getting drunk, since Margaret's expecting you home tonight," he said gently. Foxy's lips pulled back to give them a good view of his sharp teeth. He pulled the bone thin wrist out of Freddy's meaty paw of a hand._

"_I don't care if I get drunk or not. I'll get home either way. And this once I don't care what Margaret's going to think; I'm enjoying myself this time. Don't stop me, Fredrick," he responded, though it was without the heat Mike was expecting. Foxy and Freddy argued, sure, but they didn't get harsh with each other it seemed. They needed one another._

"Freddy?" Mike called when the large man didn't come back right away. He got to his feet and moved down the hall toward the door he'd seen Freddy slip into. He'd forgotten to stay put, but it didn't matter either way. Freddy wasn't mad at him. But he sure as heck was angry with the two he found laying together on the floor.


	10. Here at Fazbear's

Words in Chapter: 3052  
Written: March 18, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Mangle, Freddy, Foxy, Chica, Bonnie, Goldie, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

"You _slept_ with my _sister_?"

If Mike felt anything at all, it was sympathy for poor Foxy. The man kept his head down, his hand simultaneously acting as a support for his chin and a visor for his eye. The hangover the entertainer had was probably a killer one, judging by the way he winced at every word Freddy yelled, and how pale he looked. Mike's own head was pounding, and he'd had a whole lot less to drink than Foxy did.

"I don't remember doing that, I told you. And if you're trying to make me feel worse, you're too late. Margaret already did that," Foxy said. He leaned back on the bench and braved the harsh lights to meet his friend's eyes. "I won't go with you guys next time, to avoid something like this happening again."

Freddy looked like he was ready to continue the fight but stopped when Chica put a hand on his arm. He took his top hat from her gently with a sigh. He left them to speak with his sister, who he'd forced to wait outside.

Chica sat beside her friend, taking his hand in her own. She leaned in close to get a better look at his face, and now that Foxy wasn't hiding in the shadows, they could see what looked like claw marks dug into the skin of his cheek. Chica gasped.

"Did she hit you?"

"What? Who hit him?" Bonnie asked, grabbing Foxy's chin to get a better look at the angry red marks. The redhead winced a little and pulled back, tugging on his pirate hat to hide his face again.

"I deserved it, didn't I?" he grunted. He got to his feet and started to force the prosthetic on. Bonnie rocked back on his heels, looking to the others.

"It wasn't Goldie, was it?" Chica pressed carefully. She took the fake arm from Foxy to get his undivided attention. She wasn't surprised when he shook his head. Her face fell. She guided Foxy back to the bench before helping him dress. He didn't complain at being dressed like a child's doll. He just continued to stare at the ground sadly, as if the life had just been drained from him. Something in Mike's chest snapped.

"Are you saying... your sister hit you?"

"That's exactly what happened... I asked for it, I've done some pretty awful things to Goldie."

"Fox," Bonnie said, resting a hand on his friend's knee. He spoke firmly but didn't seem nearly as forceful or angry as Freddy. More like sad, as if he'd seen something like this happen before. "You've made mistakes, and so has she. Be the bigger person and forgive her for what she's done, instead of staying bitter. Because who's gonna get hurt by you two keeping up this feud? Freddy. Me an' Chica. Mangle. Even Mikey here. And it's been great seeing you get more social again, actually spending time with us, and making a new friend."

Foxy's eye slid to Mike then back to the floor.

"Come on, Fox. We know how good this has been for you, don't lose that progress. So just go apologize to Goldie, tell her that you're willing to give her another chance, that so long as she doesn't try anything you'll try to be friends with her again. Then Freddy'll get off your case! Maybe you'll even be able to have Goldie back as a friend, the way it used to be. What do you say?"

"I…" Foxy's voice caught. He looked into the three encouraging faces, finding nothing but hope for things to change for the better. If he did manage to work things out with Goldie… then maybe things with the others would start to get back to the place they were at before, and with some work they could stop being so distant all the time. They would be willing to help, too. He nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"You can do it, Foxy. What pirate is afraid of facing their accursed foe when they have their trusty crew behind them? You _did _face that navy all those years ago, and lived to tell the tale..." Mike teased. He grinned when Foxy's eye widened a little and he was sure the entertainer was a little flustered. Clearly, the man hadn't expected him to be listening. He tried not to laugh as the pirate hat was pulled down a little further.

Chica and Bonnie smiled along, though they felt a little out of the loop. It gave the man an idea, however.

"Hey Mike, you gonna join the captain again on stage?" Bonnie asked. "It could be a permanent position if you beg Freddy enough…"

"You did such a good job last time!" Chica joined in, the wide smile on her pink lips was one of a conspirator leading her prey into her trap with no hope of escape. Mike could see it, especially when he happened to glance at the captain, only to find redhead looking at him with something in his eyes that Mike was pretty sure was anticipation. Did Foxy want him to accept…? Bonnie slung an arm over his shoulders.

"Come on, we'll even get you your own costume!"

He could recall all of the conversations he'd had with the other servers, about how the distinction between the entertainers and the servers was wrong. About how the entertainers had it easier, because they didn't have to deal with anything but the smiles and cheers. The servers got stuck with the complaints, the unhappy families, the disappointed kids. He'd always said he wanted nothing to do with the entertainers, and now he here was, friends with them and they were offering him a job as one of them.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't betray his other friends by leaving them and joining the entertainers. They may be his friends now, but he had been a server first, and he didn't think it was fair to just ditch the people he'd originally started to be close to. Those like Jeremy, who had accepted him and showed him around. While his thoughts had changed about the people who played the parts of Freddy's band and their pirate friend, his thoughts about the inequality of the restaurant's structure hadn't. He wasn't about to turn his back on everything he'd thought was right or wrong, just because he'd developed a bit of a soft spot for the people he'd gotten to know.

He opened his mouth to say no, but closed it again. But they caught the change in his demeanor. He watched something cross Foxy's face as the man figured it out first. He pushed Bonnie's arm off Mike's shoulders.

"He doesn't want to," he stated, steel in his voice. Mike flinched.

"Fox-"

"You still don't like us, do you?"

"W-what?"

"Why do you think we stay away, Mike? Why do you think we're never with the servers? Because we know you all hate us. What do you think? Do you still believe we look down on you all, just because you're not in the same 'class'? Don't lower your standards," Foxy snapped. Chica suddenly latched onto his arm, pulling away from Mike. She was starting to cry.

"Foxy, I'm almost always on your side, even when that gets me in trouble with the others… But this time… This time I'm not! You can't always _attack_ people! Things aren't going to change overnight, so we just have to accept that… You need to stop doing things like this, or you'll end up alone. Is that what you want? You're so… so frustrating!"

Chica ran off to get away from them; Bonnie went after her, pushing past Foxy as he raced to the door. They listened as he called after her, they could hear his voice as he tried to get her to settled down and her distant complaints and arguments. They exchanged a glance, and Mike watched the entertainer retreat back into the room.

"Just… leave me alone…" Foxy whispered. Mike obliged, if only because he didn't know what to do to fix things. He made a silent pledge to do what he could to fix things, but he figured he'd need some help to do that. And with Freddy angry, he knew he'd need to turn to Chica and Bonnie.

He went about the day as if nothing had happened. The others mounted the stage as expected, with Goldie taking the spotlight as the main singer for once. Mike found himself staring at the blonde as she sang passionately into the microphone. The kids enjoyed it, if the excited chatter about there being a new female character. She caught his eye over the sea of tables, a glint in her eyes that promised a conversation later. He shivered a little and went back to his usual interactions with the customers.

He was surprised when, later on toward the lunch hour, Foxy went into Pirate's Cove and ran his usual show. Mike could see that the fox was still bothered by the light, as he kept his eye closed unless he was answering a question posed by one of the kids. He faltered once or twice, either forgetting what he was going to say next or tripping a little over the cords that littered the front of the stage. He didn't sing like he normally would, which disappointed Mike more than a little, but he could understand why.

He watched as Chica took Foxy aside shortly after the show with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers in her hands. He smiled to himself, especially when he saw that Freddy had been keeping a worried eye on his friend the whole time. They really did stick together, even if they were in the middle of a fight. There was hardly any anger visible on Freddy's face, even when he caught Mike looking in his direction.

It was while he was distracted checking on his friends that Goldie caught him. She motioned for him to follow her, and he did though it was with faint feelings of fear racing down his spine.

He was taken to a back part of the restaurant he couldn't remember seeing before, a little office of sorts. It looked eerily like his nightmare. It had the old metal fan and the cluttered desk. But it was missing that creepy ad, and the pictures of the entertainers that were tacked up on the wall were a lot less threatening. In fact, there were a lot of pictures of the gang before the restaurant even opened. The pictures were the only thing that kept him from bolting from the room. He could still see that man in the shadows...

"Dad uses the room as his office," Goldie said. "It was originally meant to be a security room, but we figured it'd be better to use it for something else."

"You guys go way back, don't you?" Mike pointed to a picture of the entertainers when they were very young children. She smiled and nodded.

"Oh yes. But I didn't ask you to come with me to discuss pictures. I want you to back off."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I came back, I didn't count on you being here. You wouldn't leave his side last night, and you were sticking your nose where it wasn't wanted. You won't always be there to keep me from him. So why don't you just make things easier for the both of us by staying away from him?"

"He's not interested, Goldie."

"Things can change! He'll see, sooner or later. He'll see that I can help him! I know exactly how to fix his every problem! And what do you know? You've barely scratched the surface. It would take you _years_ to find out half the stuff I know!" She yelled. Mike stepped away to peer up at a picture of a young Goldie with her arms around her twin brother. They were smiling, their matching eyes alight with love and happiness, their heads touching, their arms around each other. There was nothing of that little girl left in her. They all looked run down now, but none of them, not even Foxy, had suffered from as much of a transformation as Goldie Fazbear.

"Where were you?" He asked. It stopped her in her tracks, her anger drained in the face of confusion. He continued to press what he knew was a sensitive topic. "Where did you go? I know you left because of Foxy. Because whatever was going on between you, it went bad. So where did you go, after all that? And why are you back? You left them all behind, including the man you have some kind of obsession with and your own family, and now you're back. Why?"

"That's none of your business."

"Yeah, and it's none of your business what friends Foxy wants to keep. You're meddling. I can do the same thing. So if you answer my question, I'll consider giving Foxy some space."

"I just left. That's all there is to it."

"I wasn't born last night. Just get it over with and tell me the truth."

"Foxy chased me out. He turned them against me and I left before Freddy could get hurt, alright? I ran out of money, so I came back to earn some. That's it."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"How am I supposed to know? That's the truth, and all I'll tell you. Now it's your turn to keep your end of the bargain."

"I said I'd consider it," Mike sneered. He headed to the door and cut off her protests. "Your problems are with Freddy and Foxy. Stop dragging other people into it. Do you think involving me or Chica or Bonnie's going to help you at all? If anything it makes Foxy hate you more."

He headed back into the dining area. He grabbed a table at the door to act host to and got back into the swing of things, if only to clear his head. Goldie was going to get someone attacked at this rate, whether it was Foxy snapping and trying to kill her, or Freddy getting Foxy thrown out, or her kidnapping Foxy and keeping him chained up in her basement or something. Someone had to step in and stop it all before anything happened.

He tried to catch Bonnie's attention, as the entertainer was working a table nearby. His every attempt fell short until a little kid at Bonnie's table happened to look over. Mike smiled at the little boy, waved, pointed at the entertainer. The child reached up and tugged on the man's sleeve then pointed in Mike's general direction. Finally aware of the server's failing attempts, Bonnie headed over and leaned close to hear what Mike had to say.

"You think Chica would be up to hanging out tomorrow night?"

"I don't know…"

"It would be without Foxy or Freddy," Mike said. He smiled a little. "I want to get to know the two of you, since every time we've tried in the past, something bad went down. Maybe this time, if it's just the three of us, it'll work out better. What do you say?"

"I think Chica would like that," Bonnie replied with a grin. He went to move away, only for Mike to grab his arm and pull him to a stop. "What is it?"

"Do you have Foxy's home phone number?" he asked a little timidly. He got the expected look of bemusement and rushed to explain. "I want to call Mangle, not Foxy. She doesn't get out much and…"

"Say no more, friend." Bonnie pulled out his order pad and scribbled down, almost illegibly, the requested information, adding Mangle's name at the bottom just in case Mike forgot who it was for. He also jotted down the cell phone numbers for both of the vulpine siblings. "You can come home with us after work tomorrow, so long as Chica's fine with it. I think she will be but I still wanna ask just in case. And Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for everything you've done for us so far. I guess what I'm trying to say is, what progress we've seen with Foxy has been because of you. It's not a lot, but it's something. He's actually calling us now. So thanks, kid."

* * *

He got home late that night, dragging his feet as he finally reached the crummy little place he called home. He fished both the keys and his buzzing cell phone from his pockets. His mother was calling, so he hung up and focused on getting inside. He could deal with his family later.

After dropping his stuff off on the couch, he sat down at the table to give Mangle a call. He was a little worried, since he wouldn't know what to say if Foxy picked up instead of his sister. He had no idea what her schedule was like, so there was a really good chance he'd catch her at a bad time. He sighed. Might as well get it over with.

She answered after the second ring, her tone light and airy. Mike sighed in relief; he didn't have to deal with the nightmare of trying to speak to Foxy yet after the fight that morning. He didn't want to think about that eventual confrontation.

"Hey, Margaret, it's Mike."

"Oh! Hello! I didn't know you had our number!"

"I got it off Bonnie. Is Foxy home?"

"Oh," she sounded disappointed, "he's home. He's busy at the moment, but he could call you back?"

"It's you I want to talk to, I just… don't really want him to overhear."

"Is that so?" Mike could hear the squeak of her wheelchair as she moved it through her creaky apartment. He could hear her breathing, he could picture her with the phone pinned against her collarbone while she tried to get around the obstacles in her way.

"Do you want to meet up sometime soon? I could ask Chica if she wants to come and we can go do something."

"I'd like that, Mikey. I'd really like that. You're the first one to ask me that in a long time."


	11. We Try Our Best

Words in Chapter: 2341  
Written: March 19, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Chica, Bonnie, Mangle, Freddy, Foxy, Goldie, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

They swung by Mangle's apartment building on their way back to Bonnie's house. She was waiting outside for them, too distracted at first by the book in her hands to notice when they'd pulled to a stop. Getting her into the car was more of a struggle than it had been when Freddy had picked her up, and Mike was pretty sure it was because neither he nor Bonnie had even half as much experience as Foxy did.

Chica had moved to the back seat to give Mangle the front and sat giggling as her fiance and friend struggled. First, Bonnie couldn't figure out how to properly pick her up out of the chair since he was a little worried he'd hurt her, or pull up her skirt by accident. Then, they weren't sure how to get her into the car's seat without bumping something, like their heads or her legs.

Mike remembered seeing Freddy pull at the seat while he had followed Foxy inside and suggested that they do the same. Chica reached forward and pulled the passenger seat back for them. It made it easier for Bonnie to get Mangle settled inside. The young woman just giggled at their attempts.

"Maybe we shoulda invited Foxy along after all," Bonnie grumbled. "He actually knows what to do to make things easier."

"You could have asked," Mangle chirped sweetly. He glared at her then grinned and returned to the driver side. He slid inside, and in the back Chica nudged Mike's side excitedly.

She had practically been bouncing the entire time they'd been in the car on their way to pick up Mangle. She had chattered on and on about how excited she was to be able to spend time with the other young woman. She promised to look for some of the old tapes she had stowed away in her basement from years ago, of a couple of Mangle's competitions and a few school performances. She claimed she was as bad as Mangle was about holding onto everything, though she'd donated most of her pictures to Mangle a couple years ago since the girl had been begging for the others to give her any they didn't want, but Chica had kept the videos and a good few from when they had been kids.

"Where is he anyway? It looked like your apartment windows were dark," Chica said.

"Working. He's convinced that Freddy's going to fire him."

"He wouldn't, would he?" Mike asked. The others didn't give him any reassuring looks.

"I… hope none of you will hold the fact I hit him last night against me… I was just so angry at him. He's smarter than to do something so stupid as to get drunk around Goldie! He should have been aware of just how stupid that was for him to do. I felt bad as soon as I did it; he looked so wounded… I'll make it up to him later, somehow…"

"I know! You could bake him something!" Chica cried. Mangle smiled over her shoulder at the blonde and nodded.

"He'd love that. Especially if you're the one helping me with it."

The girls started to giggle, and Chica leaned into Mike's side. They stayed mostly quiet for the rest of the ride, since it was easier for them to talk when they could all face each other. Mangle kept looking over at Mike and smiling at him. She seemed so much happier than the last time he'd seen her. She couldn't stop looking in his direction, her mouth opening a little as if to say something to him. There was a lightness to her that hadn't been there before, and it reminded him more of the Margaret from the photographs than the one he'd been slowly learning about.

Bonnie helped get Mangle out with much more ease than the trying to get her into the car. Chica meanwhile took Mike inside to have him make dinner. She was practically bouncing as she started to pull out ingredients and the necessary cooking supplies.

"This is so wonderful!" she squealed, doing a little spin, her skirt flaring out around her. She was a great flame, casting light over everything she came near, making the world that much brighter wherever she went. He could see why Bonnie was so head over heels in love with her. Who needed lights when she was nearby? "It's been such a long time since we could do this! This is more than I ever could have wished for!"

"Why didn't you invite her over earlier?" Mike asked. Chica came to a stop. She looked to the ground then back at Mike, moving back to the counter and taking him with her to make progress on what looked like absolutely scrumptious spaghetti. She lightly bumped her hip against his.

"Fox was never a jailer, Mike. Mangle didn't want to leave his side for a long time after the accident. It was her choice as much as it was his."

"I hadn't thought about it like that before."

"We mostly blame him for it but we shouldn't. How much time have you been spending with them?"

"Not as much as I'd like to," he said honestly. Chica's eyes lit up. She squealed again and clutched his arm.

"So what's your flavour?" she asked. "Which way do you swing?"

Mike almost choked. But she was looking at him with such open curiosity that he realized there was no way of getting out of answering her question. She tugged on his arm with a little whine when he didn't immediately answer her. He opened his mouth a little, trying to formulate an answer in his mind that would satisfy her without inviting more awkward questions. He was a little scared that she'd try to set him up with someone.

"Hey, Chick?" Bonnie called. She skipped away from Mike to see what her husband-to-be wanted. He used the opening to slide out to where Mangle was out in the living room. She offered him the remote for the television, rocking back on her tires to let him pass her. She smiled knowingly at him upon seeing his red face.

He sunk into the couch, wishing it would swallow him whole. He focused on the screen and clicked the button until it switched channels. The people in the show were crying their eyes out, falling all over each other in a what looked a hospital waiting room. He looked away from the scene to see Mangle still watching him with that amused look in her yellow eyes.

"So... did you hear what she said?" He asked hesitantly. The woman shook her head.

"No, but I know her well enough to assume. It was something about dating, I imagine. And since you've never spoken about past relationships, she'd start with the basics. Which in your case would be what gender you're interested in, am I correct? And based on the lack of squeals from the kitchen, you dodged telling her. Care to share?"

"Uh…"

"If it helps any, your answer won't affect me any. I'm not all that interested in you, and not because you aren't cute. I have my eye on someone else," she paused to study him, and when she continued it was almost cautiously. "I don't know where my brother stands with you. But I know he has a soft spot for you, Mike. He's always had trouble getting close to other people, and Goldie made that even harder for him. She went from being someone he thought he could trust unconditionally to being a control freak obsessed with trying to win his love and affection. She scares him, even now. I know he's not the nicest, and he does go out of his way to pick fights, but I want you to know that it's not because he hates you, alright? He's always had trouble with this kind of thing. But once you get to know him… I don't think you'll regret it. Who knows, maybe you can help him learn how to be friendlier or something. I think your friendship will do him a world of good. I just wish I could promise you that it'll be easy. But Pharaoh was never good at making things easy."

Mike stayed silent. He flipped the remote over in his hands, staring at every little grove in the curved, white surface. He pressed his thumb into one of the deepest indents and let his eyes slide closed. In the quiet, he could hear their hosts chatting airly in the kitchen, and Mangle's soft breathing. His heart was going faster than he expected, and the thudding in his chest seemed much louder than it was in reality.

He got up the courage to look her in the eye again, and found that those soft yellow eyes didn't cause that same chill, whether it be fear or delight, as her brother's stirred within him. Two people, so close and yet so different. Maybe it was because everything had aged Foxy so much more than it had Mangle, as if it was a ten-ton weight on Foxy's back and a feather on hers. He wanted these people in his life, as his friends at the very least. He didn't mind how broken they were, either. It just provided them room to grow.

"You're… beautiful, you know?" he said quietly. She looked away shyly, a blush rising to warm her cheeks. She let him rest his hand on hers, turning hers over so their palms were pressed together. "People don't tell you that enough, do they?"

Bonnie and Chica called them to the dining room a few minutes later, and they went together. Bonnie had moved a chair out of the way for her, and she smiled gratefully. It was pleasantly quiet as they ate, the only one talking occasionally was Chica when she thought of something to share with the rest of the table. The other two didn't talk much; Mike assumed it was because Foxy generally wasn't as chatty so Mangle was probably used to sitting quietly at the table, and Bonnie just liked listening to Chica talk.

"How did you two meet?" Mike asked, to give her something to talk about. Bonnie choked on a mouthful of noodles, his face suddenly red as the sauce on his plate. He shook his head hard and waved his hands to try to convince a laughing Chica not to tell. Mangle's smile was positively evil.

"Yes, why don't you tell our friend Mike that story, Chica?"

"N-no, p-please…!" Bonnie begged. Chica seemed to debate it. Her violet eyes shifted from Bonnie's desperate expression to Mangle's rather pleased one to Mike's look of anticipation.

"Let's just say…"

"Chick, _please_!"

"...it involved him being beaten up by the only kid in the entire school with a prosthetic limb. And losing."

"Chicaaaaaaaa!"

Mike nearly died laughing at the picture that brought to mind, especially as Bonnie's face progressively got redder. He couldn't help it. All he could see was the lanky redhead practically mauling the comparatively larger Bonnie in a schoolyard brawl. The girls giggled along with him at the poor entertainer's expense. Mike honestly doubted that he'd be able to see Bonnie or Foxy without bursting out laughing all over again.

After they settled down, and Mike helped Chica do the dishes while Mangle and Bonnie picked and set up a movie in the living room. The two set up the system of having Mike, who was seemingly incapable of getting the dishes clean to a level deemed acceptable by the master of the kitchen, dried and put away the dishes while Chica hummed a song to herself as she scrubbed away the grime of each dish.

"Which way does Freddy 'swing'?" Mike asked out of curiosity. Chica stopped for a moment to eye the man up before shrugging a little.

"He's interested in women, I believe. He has bad luck with them though," she said with a giggle. "I've watched him crash and burn so many times, it's really funny. But he gets back up and tries again! I guess he just hasn't found the right one yet to settle down with. He's tried a few times with dating, but they have never lasted all that long. The girls just wanted the money they knew he has."

"What about Foxy?"

"That… I'm not too sure on. I don't think I've ever seen him date, even. I can see him with either, but I don't know. You'd have to ask him that one." She bumped her shoulder against his side, then twirled away to head out into the living room. Mike pulled the plug for the sink before following her out. He left the towel he'd been using on the table.

Bonnie was already setting on the couch when they walked in. He pulled Chica straight into his lap and rubbed his cheek against hers which in turn made her laugh and try to squirm away. Mike rolled his eyes with a smile and saw Mangle doing the same. He fell into the armchair to give the couple some space.

About halfway through the movie, the girls had fallen asleep sitting up, so the boys decided to call it a night. Bonnie shifted his soon-to-be-wife to be laying down then tugged a blanket over her and left a note on the kitchen table in case she woke up. He'd let her stay the night, he decided. He didn't want to wake her.

Mike grabbed the handles on Mangle's chair and carefully took her outside. She didn't react besides a muttered sentence as she snuggled further into the padding. When they moved her to the car, she opened her eyes a little and sleepily asked, "Pharaoh? Are we going somewhere?"

They took her home. Her brother was just getting home by the time they got there, and with a tired smile of thanks, and a mumbled comment about hoping they had fun, he brought her inside.


	12. To Provide

Words in Chapter: 2209  
Written: March 20, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Goldie, Mangle, Freddy, Foxy, Chica, Bonnie, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized. Stalking._  
AN: I just have to say a huge thank you to every one of you who reviewed on my story. It's really touching to me that you'll take the time and review on my story. It was something I started as just a challenge to see how well I could do with updating daily, and all of you who have reviewed have played a big part in helping me continue that. So thank you! You're all so sweet to me :)

* * *

She couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned beneath the warm and inviting covers feeling hot and sticky. She felt like she was going to be sick and yet no bile rose in her throat. That in of itself was strange, for she'd been feeling positively horrible for the past few days. It was dragging her from those wonderful hours in which the mind was allowed to shut down long enough to recuperate from the day's stresses.

It wouldn't be long before she'd end up running for the bathroom to throw up. It had been this way for at least a week now, and she'd forgotten how difficult it was to keep things from her brother. He slept soundly, but it didn't take much to wake him in the mornings if she made noise near his room. And the bathroom she used was, unfortunately, next to his bedroom. She'd considered using a different one, but that would raise just as much suspicion since she was a creature of habit. He'd notice that something was up.

She'd been back too long, a few weeks now, for her to suddenly switch up her behavior. He'd start asking questions about how much she'd changed, about where she'd been so he could know why she was acting so differently now than she had before. He used to tease her about how she refused to use the upstairs bathroom because the downstairs one was 'hers.'

The covers were flung off finally as she couldn't take it anymore. She padded down the hall, passed Freddy's slightly open bedroom door, and slipped into the bathroom to sit on the icy tiles. She let her head rest against the wall. Her stomach was starting to turn and she didn't feel like waking her brother by sprinting down the hall when her body chose to revolt. Whatever she'd picked up was nasty and she couldn't wait until it passed so she could get on with her life without feeling so awful every morning.

She was sent retching to the toilet. Her sounds masked the approaching footsteps, so she jumped when warm hands brushed her neck. Her hair was pulled back for her as she got sick. When she was finished she leaned back, turning her head just enough to catch a glimpse of his worried face.

"M-morning," she croaked. Freddy reached around her to the sink and poured her a glass of water. She sipped it, relishing the way it soothed the screaming burn. He helped her back up to her feet and she leaned against him feeling weak. "I woke you."

"I was already waking up."

"I must have caught something at the restaurant…"

"How long have you been sick?" he asked, guiding her out of the bathroom. He took her into the living room and she curled up on the couch. She shrugged a little. "Gold, tell me."

"Not too long… A few days, a week or so at most…" she responded quietly. He touched her forehead to see if she was running a temperature. She was a little warm, maybe, but she wasn't running a fever.

"You should stay home. If you have caught a cold or something we don't want it spreading. Do you want me to stay with you?" he asked.

She did consider begging him to stay, since his house was large and empty without him in it with her, but she didn't think the restaurant could really spare him. He was needed there, and asking him to stay home when he was perfectly healthy was like asking her to go without the use of an arm for a day. He loved the business more than she could ever remember seeing him love anything else.

She shook her head slowly. He brushed her hair back gently and she pressed into the touch, her eyes sliding closed.

"I'll bring something home for you. Rest for now, and if can try to eat something. If you need anything, please do call me. I'll come right home."

"Yes, brother. Now go get ready for work," she said. He gave her a little worried smile and seemed reluctant to leave her side, but she just smiled at him and waved for him to go until he headed down the hall back toward his room.

She curled into the cushions more, willing her stomach to stop protesting. She was tired and felt awful and she didn't want to be forced to continue to wear a fake smile when she was miserable. She didn't want to worry Freddy, he had enough stress as it is, but it wasn't easy to hide how terrible this was. She didn't exactly feel like she'd caught the flu or anything of the sort…

Freddy returned a few minutes later wearing his black uniform. He stopped at the end of the couch, judging whether or not leaving her alone for the day was even an option.

Her phone started to buzz on the table and he went to fetch it for her. She chewed her lip nervously, hoping he wouldn't read the texts. He didn't. He simply handed it over to her, lifting an eyebrow at her look of anxiety. She practically ripped it from his hands. It continued to buzz.

"Is everything alright?" He asked. She smiled.

"Everything's fine. You're going to be late for work if you don't leave soon."

"I could-"

"Go on, Freddy," she said. She nodded her head toward the door and with a sigh he headed toward it. She waited until she heard the door close to even unlock her phone.

She scrolled through the messages, used to their contents, until she came to the last one which made her breath catch.

_'Who is he? Your boyfriend? Your lover? He's keeping you from me.'_

She wanted to turn her phone off, but worried he'd show up in person. She pulled her knees up to her chest. She closed her eyes, unwilling to look at the glowing screen. Another message came in and she refused to look at it, already knowing what it would hold.

* * *

Mike was pounced on by Chica when he reached work. She crushed the air from his lungs in a tight hug. He laughed a little, a strained but content sound, and gently tried to pry her off.

"N-nice to s-see you, C-Chica!" he gasped. She pulled back enough to smile widely at him, flashing her pearly whites. He returned the look, sucking in grateful gasps of air, though he didn't understand why she seemed so happy.

The others watched on from behind her, and they seemed amused to be witnessing the scene. Bonnie walked over and gently pulled her back to let Mike have room to breathe. She bounced a little on feet. She left Mike alone for a moment to cling to Foxy, stopping him front properly tugging on those thick, black heeled boots he wore throughout the day. It looked like this had been going on for a while, for Foxy grumbled at her and tried to reach around her to finish getting the boots on.

"I get it Chica," he growled, "I know you're happy but please _get off._"

"I'd almost forgotten what it was like spending time with her!" Chica cried, flopping onto the bench beside him. She picked up his hat, which seemed to irritate him almost as much as hanging off him, but he didn't stop her. "I'd missed her so much! Thank you, Mike, for letting us see her! You two are such wonderful people, why do you hide?"

Foxy didn't answer. He stood to adjust his coat. Chica had to stand on her tiptoes to be able to reach up even enough to awkwardly place his hat on his head. She poked at it until it was settled and she could see his eyes again. He looked tired.

"Foxy?" Mike called. The man looked over. "Do you want to do something after work some time?"

"I'm busy," Foxy replied immediately. His response was a little disappointing, but Mike just shrugged. He wasn't going to try to force him to do something he didn't want to. There would always be another chance to ask him to hang out later.

It was then that Freddy arrived, joining them in the change room. He barely greeted them, simply going to his own locker to get his costume. The others stared at him, confused and maybe a little worried. Bonnie was the one to attempt to approach him while the others waited, watching and wondering.

"Hey, boss… Something wrong?" he asked. Freddy glanced at him then sighed.

"I don't think many of you would really care if I told you."

"Of course we'll care, Freddy, what is it?" Chica questioned. She looked to the others who nodded.

"Goldie's sick."

"It's nothing bad, is it? She'll be alright?" Foxy asked. Everyone else in the room turned to stare at him until his face went red and he glared at them angrily. "We fight, yes, but I'm not heartless. Will she be alright or not Fazbear?"

"I think she'll be fine. But I'm taking her to the doctor's tomorrow just in case, which means I won't be at work in the morning. I'm hoping I can trust you all not to burn the place down?"

"Let us know how see is, Freddy!" Chica said. She fastened her bib into place then pulled Bonnie out into the hall to get to their places for open hours. The others followed her example and parted ways.

It was turning out to be a slow day. A few large groups came and went, but most of those who visited the restaurant were groups of two or three trickling in every once in a while. Mike was given a table of one to tend to around four in the afternoon, and he led the man to a table closer to the Pirate's Cove as the gentleman requested. He went through the welcoming speech in a falsely cheerful tone to which the man hummed and asked for some time to choose something from the menu and a mug of black coffee.

Mike left him alone, though he kept an eye on the man. It wasn't strange to see single adults come in, though usually it was young women who wanted to get a better look at one of the male entertainers. It was just that the man seemed sort of vaguely familiar, as if Mike had seen the guy in passing before. He shrugged it off and went about his duties tending to the few other tables he had.

When he went back to the man's table, Foxy was just climbing the steps to his stage with a bouncing Bonnie at his heels. The man's dark eyes followed Foxy's movements, and with an amused expression he turned to Mike without looking away from the entertainer.

"What's his name?" he asked.

"The performer? Which one?"

"The one dressed like a pirate."

"Foxy."

The man laughed, "Is that his real name? Or simply a stage name he prefers to use?"

"Why not both?" Mike replied. The man turned in his seat to get a better look at Mike's face. The customer's black hair hid most of his features, falling down around his face in slight waves, but Mike could see enough to draw a few conclusions. The man was a little younger than he expected, though it looked like he was older than any of the entertainers. His was the kind of face you'd remember, since he had a boyish look contradicted by the strong jaw and wide shoulders.

"Are you friends with this… Foxy?" the man asked slowly, those sharp predatory eyes finally moving from his face back up to the pirate. He didn't give the server a chance to answer. "Do you think it would be possible for you to ask him, once he's finished his delightful little song and show, to come visit my table? I'll tip you both generously."

"I'll… see what I can do," he said. He left to stand at the edge of the stage as he listened to the two on stage 'argued' over whether or not stealing was right or wrong. A few children were sitting on the floor in front of the stage listening and giggling at their little skit. He looked up and saw Foxy looking past Bonnie to see what he wanted. He motioned for Foxy to join him to which the entertainer nodded.

Shortly after, he was joined by the redhead.

"What is it?"

"You have a fan," Mike said. "The man over there wants to talk to you."

"The one with the camera?" Foxy asked. Mike turned and found the man watching them with a camera in his hands. A flash went off, and the man tucked the device back into his jacket pocket. He looked away from them, slipping from his mug of coffee. It made the server more than a little nervous about what the man could possibly want with his friend, but he didn't stop him from walking over to the table. He just watched.

The man left about ten minutes later, his hand pressed against the pocket that held the camera.


	13. A Pleasant

Words in Chapter: 2036  
Written: March 21, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Mangle, Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, Goldie, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

The door slammed shut, dragging Mangle's attention away from her homework. She listened as her brother grumbled and complained under his breath. His boots thumped against the mat by the door as he shed them. She stayed quiet, unsure of what kind of mood he was in, until he came into the kitchen. He draped his jacket over the back of his chair and kissed her hair before moving off again.

"How was work?" she asked. She continued to listen to him as he moved, unwilling to move yet from the table. He walked into the living room.

"Grueling," he answered after a little while. He pulled off his prosthetic with a grunt, tossing it into the corner of the couch. The sock followed it and he rubbed at the stump, wincing. "And school?"

"Are you alright?" Mangle questioned, having heard the strain in his voice. She rocked her wheelchair back a little then turned it to join him in the main room, reaching up to take his hand in one of hers. Her free one went to the lumpy red skin of where his right arm ended. "That looks raw… You need a replacement, don't you? I can't remember when you got this one."

"We don't have the money. And I'm not going to go to Freddy asking for help for it."

"I know you save any extra money you get, why can't you use that?" She followed him into his room. She played with the handle of her chair while he changed shirts to get into something more comfortable than the tight black shirt he wore for work. He kept his back to her. It was clear she wasn't going to get a reply, and since he seemed upset she decided this time to let him keep his silence. "What if I got a job on my school's campus?"

"Marg-"

"It would help you, wouldn't it?"

"It's not me that matters!" he protested. His eye was wide and pleading, his entire frame tense with stress. He knelt so he wasn't looking down on her and put his hand on her knee. "Margaret, I want you to stay in school, that was the whole point of me going to work full time. To give you a chance to get a better job when you graduate. You need to focus on your grades, I've been managing so far to handle the bills. I'll work harder if I have to, I just want to keep you in school…"

"You should have finished first, Pharaoh… I could have taken a couple years off and worked while you studied, then when you graduated you could have gotten a job that pays more than Freddy's does. And I could have gone to university then, instead of you sacrificing your education for mine," she said. She didn't wait for his objections. She pulled him back to his feet and looked up at him with a pout. "Would you let me take care of you tonight, big brother? I can cook for you while you put up your feet and relax for once. Please?"

He caved. He went with her to the kitchen and got the supplies she would need then backed off to let her work her magic. He left her in peace, settling down on the couch with a book while she cooked. He smiled to himself when Mangle began to hum to herself, an occasional giggle breaking the uplifting tune. Pleased with the fact his sister seemed happier, he lost himself in his book.

He didn't notice at first when she'd returned, even after she'd called his names a few times. She laughed to herself and reached out to tickle him which caused him to yelp and drop the book. He glared at her a little, a smile creeping onto his lips unbidden. She smiled sweetly as he laughed, not stopping in her relentless tickling. She stole the book while he was busy trying to squirm away from her fingers. She rolled her chair back so it stopped beside the arm of the couch. She rested her hands on his shoulders while he got his breath back.

When he was calm enough to lean into the back of the couch without chuckling, she started to work the muscles of his back. He gave an appreciative moan and melted into her touch. She delighted in his happy, comfortable sounds since she could feel the tension beneath his skin just melting away. She continued to massage his back until he was almost at the point of falling asleep sitting up.

"Hey Fox, you can't sleep yet," she teased. "You need to eat."

"No…" he mumbled, but he did open his eyes and sit up properly. He stretched and glanced out the window. Something caught his eye and he went to investigate, pushing aside the tattered white drapes to get a better look. He thought he saw a shadowed man moving in the dark, but it happened so fast he couldn't be sure. Angry and a little disturbed, he pulled the drapes tightly closed and turned off the lights of the room.

"What's going on?" Mangle asked. Foxy returned to the couch.

"Keep the windows closed for a few days," he said. She nodded and handed him plate, though she found her eyes drawn to the window in curiosity.

* * *

Elsewhere, Chica wrapped her arms around Bonnie from behind as he finished doing the dishes, resting her head against his back. She smiled into his shirt.

"Bon, you could finish those later," she whined. He smeared his wet hands along her arms, her squeal of protest making him laugh. He tried to do it again but she pulled her arms back just in time, almost making him get the front of his shirt soaking wet. He dipped another dish into the water and continued to scrub. Chica wiped her arms off on the back of his shirt making him groan. She giggled and pulled back. She waited a little while before she start to press a few little kisses along the back of his neck in an attempt to distract him from his chore.

"I might as we get it done now," he said. She pouted at him, to which he smiled lovingly, then headed into the living room to flop into the couch. She snagged the remote from side table and started to idly flip through the channels with the volume as high as it could go to bug her husband-to-be. She could barely hear him when he laughed, but she managed to catch the sound. She smiled.

"Are we going to discuss plans, Bon?" she asked, raising her voice so he could actually hear her over the clatter of the dishes and racket from the television. She strained to hear his response, almost tempted to just turn down the loud music coming from the TV though it would ruin her fun, when she couldn't hear anything come from the kitchen. She sat up a little. "Bonnie?"

He grabbed her shoulders, making her scream in surprise. He almost bust a gut laughing while she shoved at his shoulder.

"Your face!" He cried gleefully, almost doubled over. Her face flushed and she punched his arm. "Ow! Alright, Chick, I'm done the dishes. We gonna discuss now?"

"As long as you promise not to do that again!"

He crossed his heart and sat next to her, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. She snuggled into his side.

"When are we going to get married, Bon? What time of year? And we have to wait, don't we?" she asked seriously. He looked down at her in confusion so she went further to explain. "With everything that's going on, we don't know how long Goldie will be here, or whether or not her relationship with Foxy will sort itself out… Right now we couldn't possibly invite either of them, since they'd start fighting and I don't want our day ruined like that…"

"So do we just… wait until Goldie leaves or they figure it out?"

"It's better than not including them at all, isn't it?" Chica responded. Bonnie said and smoothed back his hair. He held her closer while he tried to come up with a solution. She had a point; the others had been the reason they'd gotten together in the first place, so to exclude them was almost cruel. They would want to be there to help them celebrate the next step in their relationship. And while Foxy would likely be accepting of their decision, though he wouldn't be happy about it in the slightest, Goldie would be angry and rightfully so. And on top of that, Mangle wouldn't be willing to go without her brother, which would mean that Chica lost having one of her absolute best friends at their wedding.

"Let's do something this weekend," he said suddenly. Chica sat up to give him a confused look, unable to comprehend the unexpected change. Bonnie was grinning now. "Just the two of us. A date or something. Just to get away from all this craziness. You know you want to, Chick. I'll even let you pick what we'll do! Please say yes…"

Chica smiled and kissed him.

* * *

The following morning, Goldie was perched on the end of the couch, watching Freddy move around in the living room with cold eyes. He was ignoring her for the time being, too busy to bother dealing with her temper. He knew why she was upset, she didn't want him to take the time off to escort her to the doctor's since she was more than capable of going by herself, but he wasn't going to change his mind about taking her. So she could be mad all she wanted, it wasn't going to change things. He was fine letting her muttering comments to herself that he assumed were insults or complaints. As he walked past her, she grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him.

"Freddy, are you sure we have to go? We could go to work instead…" she begged while tugging on his sleeve. He gave her a look to which she sighed and got to her feet. She followed him out to the car and got in with a pout. Freddy didn't let her sulking bother him, too used to her behavior to be upset by it.

"You're not getting out of it," he said flatly. He took her there without listening to her complaints. She finally settled for blasting rock music from the speakers. She rested her cheek against the cool glass of the window and closed her eyes to rest. The car ride was making her start to feel a little sick. She felt Freddy's hand come to rest on her knee for a moment before shifting back to the controls of the car.

She stayed quiet, resting and waiting, until she felt the car roll to a stop. She didn't open her eyes right away, even as she heard her brother get out. He pulled open her door for her and she reluctantly slid from the comfortable warmth. They went inside together, with his arm around her shoulders.

She was called in to speak with the doctor not long after they arrived. She walked off looking as though she was being called in to see an executioner. Freddy rolled his eyes at her. He read a novel he'd brought in while he waited for his sister's return. A child wailed in the corner while her mother tried to quiet her by encouraging her to watch the television screen which made white noise at best. There were a few others scattered about the room complaining about the noise. He tried to tune them all out, since it was nothing compared to the noise at the restaurant, and at least here the poor child probably had a reason to cry. He was tempted to go attempt to cheer up the child, but decided against it.

When Goldie came out, she grabbed her brother's arm and practically dragged him from the building. She was shaking something awful, and every time he tried to speak to her, she responded with a stony silence.


	14. Experience

Words in Chapter: 1800  
Written: March 22, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, Foxy, Goldie, ?, Mangle  
Warnings: _Humanized. Mild violence._  
AN: I apologize.

* * *

Bonnie and Chica walked in around the same time Mike did, greeting the man warmly and asking how he was. He just shrugged and followed them to the back, listening as they chatted about a customer from a few days ago that had won over their hearts.

They stopped outside the change room on surprise as they heard Freddy's raised voice through the closed door. They looked to each other with concern, but none found the courage to step into the room, especially when they heard a yelp. They held their breath, waiting for the next noise, the next growled threat or sound of pain. Mike felt sick.

A few moments later Freddy hissed, "Get out of here. If I see you again I'll gut you."

They stepped back as one when the door swung open. They stared. Foxy looked at them with wide eyes before tugging his jacket tighter around himself as he sprinted past them. Mike didn't hesitate to run after the redhead while Chica and Bonnie went to get Freddy's side of the story.

Mike managed to get close enough to grab a fistful of Foxy's coat once they had reached the sidewalk since the entertainer had been forced to slow down, abruptly bringing the man to a halt. He didn't let him struggle out of his grasp, instead pulling the slighter man to his chest and pinning him there in what would appear to the others on the sidewalk as a tight hug from behind. He could feel Foxy tremble.

"What happened?" he asked gently as the redhead coughed a few times, and from what little Mike could see, there was an angry red mark in the shape of a large hand on his neck. He dragged him into a little cafe next door to the restaurant and bought him a bottle of water once he was seated at one of the tables. Foxy greedily gulped the water before speaking.

"Freddy got some news yesterday."

"So? Why was this news bad enough to make him want to kill you?"

"Goldie's pregnant," he mumbled. His gaze dropped to the table so he missed Mike's expression but he definitely caught the little gasp. "I don't... I don't think I'm even the father, Mike... I don't remember what happened that night, but I just feel like the father's... someone else."

"What are you going to do?" Mike asked softly. Foxy didn't have an answer. He rolled the bottle between his palms and listened to the plastic crackle. The water splashed up the sides, spraying his hands with tiny droplets that slid down the backs before pooling on the table's wooden surface. He still felt the burn of Freddy's hand crushing his throat, as his airways closed and Freddy leaned in so close that he could smell the larger man's musky aftershave, with fire in his cerulean eyes that made him want to cower in fear just to be granted mercy. He started to shake all over again. He couldn't breathe, his vision was blurring, he could hardly hear Mike's concerned voice over the blood rushing in his ears, his throat ached-

Mike grabbed his shoulders and shook him just slightly, making a yellow eye snap up from the crushed water bottle half twisted in one pale hand. Water was everywhere now, and the other customers were staring at them and whispering behind the cups they held to their mouths and pretended to sip from.

Foxy felt his face burn. He dipped his head to hide his face from the judging looks. Mike seemed unaffected, and he was jealous. All he could feel were the eyes on him. He could imagine them all gossiping in their airy tones about the crazy man they saw in the coffee shop that morning. The only one in the entire store that wasn't acting as if he was completely insane was the server.

"Breathe, it's alright. Don't look at them," Mike soothed, shifting to sit closer to Foxy. He eased the water bottle from the shaking hand and left it on the table out of reach. He waited for the man to calm down, rubbing a thumb in circles against the shoulder blade he could feel beneath the redhead's clothing. "Are you alright now?"

Foxy nodded, honestly able to believe it now. His thoughts were much clearer, and he could breathe again. His throat continued to ache, but that was tolerable. He rubbed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, lad..."

"You're stressed. I get it. It's totally natural," Mike said with a shrug. He got up and purchased a couple muffins. He took Foxy from the cafe and out onto the fairly empty street. "Let's go for a walk."

"You've got work," Foxy protested immediately. He was ignored, and Mike grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the restaurant. He stumbled after the smaller man. He didn't bother to fight it further, and just followed Mike toward the bus stop.

The bus lumbered into sight before long, screaming to a halt at the stop and opening its door with a sigh. They paid their fare and moved to the very back, sitting on the seats over one of its wheel wells. Foxy took the seat with the least room, curling his legs so his knees were against his chest.

They went past Mike's house around ten minutes later. They hadn't said a word to each other, for Mike's assumption that Foxy preferred quiet seemed to be right. The tall man contented himself looking out the window while his companion listened for the name of their stop. His one eye seemed to droop lazily as he watched the scenery rush by. With how comfortable he looked, curled up there in the bus stop seat, Mike almost felt bad when he forced them to get off the bus. But Foxy didn't complain.

"What does the great Foxy like to do in his spare time?" Mike asked, making the redhead lift an eyebrow. He grinned to try to get the man to respond. He was starting to feel nervousness pricking at his confidence. He was skipping work without notice with a man prone to snapping without great provocation. And while he wasn't as nervous as he'd once been at the idea of being alone with the entertainer, the incident in the cafe had shaken him up, since he hadn't expected Foxy to react like that. He knew that Freddy had attacked him, and that alone would be enough to upset a person, but for Foxy to simply break down like that in public scared him more than a little. What if it happened again? Would he know what to do to help? Would it stop them from spending time together in the future? The idea of not seeing Foxy again outside of work made something in his chest clench. The redhead was his friend, he wouldn't want something like a panic attack to ruin what fragile progress they were making.

"I don't have much free time, Mike… But I like to read, and sometimes I'll draw with Margaret... " Foxy mumbled. It was enough of answer that Mike could accept it, changing directions to head toward the mall across the street. He scanned the stores until he found the one he was looking for. He heard Foxy make a complaint, a protest, an argument, a pleading attempt to get Mike to change his mind, but he ignored him. He wiped his boots on the mat just inside the door while Foxy muttered to himself outside for a little while before joining him inside.

He grabbed the entertainer by the arm and guided him to the racks of non-fiction books. He browsed the fat spines, feeling Foxy's gaze on his face. He didn't let go of Foxy's arm lest the man leave without him and not return.

"You must love complaining," he joked. He felt Foxy's bony elbow connect with his ribcage suddenly and he laughed at the playful glare he received when he looked in the redhead's direction. He returned to the books and ran a finger over the plastic covers. "You do it all the time."

"Someone has to, or everything would be horribly… happy," Foxy replied. "What are you looking for?"

Mike kept looking on his own until he found the book, pulling it out with a triumphant grin. He showed it to Foxy with a flourish, watching the man's face as he read the title.

"A gift for Marg?"

"You're _not_ bringing that into my house," Foxy growled. Mike just smirked and headed to the counter, making sure to hold the book on Egyptian pharaohs against his chest so the other couldn't pry it from his hands. And Foxy did try to get it; he grabbed at it a few times before Mike moved into the line of sight of the other customers. It was then that the entertainer kept his hands to himself. He stomped off, grumbling something about meeting him at the front doors.

Mike used that time apart to search for a few other books for his own collection. He picked up three. When he had purchased them, he joined Foxy.

"I have something for you," he said while handing over the bag for Mangle. He patted down his pockets, finding the metal tin after a bit of searching. He gave it to the entertainer a little shyly, worried about how Foxy would react to the money the decorative box held. The tips had started to stack up, so he figured it was time to surprise the man by handing over what money he'd saved of his own tips.

He chewed his lip as he watched Foxy undo the latch and open the top. The yellow eye widened in surprise then lifted to meet the nervous blue pools of the younger male. Mike couldn't read the look Foxy wore.

"I… I can't take this…"

"Yes, you can. Remember what I told you? You've got fans, Foxy. I've been holding onto what people have been giving me for you," he lied smoothly, not glancing away for a moment. He wanted the man to take it. He wanted to help, and he knew that as much as Foxy was prideful, as much as he was determined to do things on his own, Foxy wanted to accept the help he was being offered. "Go on, take it. It's a gift."

"There's too much here." Foxy dumped most of the change into his hand and offered the money back to the server.

"If I take it…then you have to promise to go out and do something with me. Margaret too, if you want. I just want to get to be your friend, Foxy. What do you say?"

Foxy pressed the money into Mike's hand with a nod.


	15. For Everyone!

Words in Chapter: 1975  
Written: March 23, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, Foxy, Mangle, Goldie, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_  
AN: Hey guys. First, thank you all for your reviews. Your theories are interesting and really insightful and I'm happy to see you guys like this enough to put that much thought into it. I love you all, my friends. But onto the bad news: I might, _might_ not be able to post tomorrow... I was off last week on March Break and now that school's back in session I'm feeling the stress. I'll try my best to get the chapter done, but if I can't post then I'll make it up to you later with a longer chapter or something. I appreciate your patience. Thank you.

* * *

"You attacked him?" Bonnie questioned. Horror was written across his face, and Freddy could see it clearly. He looked away from his friend, unable to stand that look of betrayal and disgust. He picked up what little of his costume that he hadn't put on before Foxy had arrived, just his hat and bow tie, and slowly put each piece into place before going to stand in front of the mirror hanging on the back of the door. He could hear Bonnie tapping his foot behind him.

"Yes. He ruined her life," he answered. He heard them speak to each other, their voices low and confused. He kept his eyes on his own reflection and fixed the position of his black bowtie. He listened as Chica shuffled forward, stopping by his shoulder.

"What are you talking about?"

"He got her pregnant."

"You fired him," Bonnie accused. Freddy nodded, continuing to avoid looking at his friends. He didn't want to feel the guilt they would plant in him. He was already starting to regret it, but every time he thought about apologizing to Foxy, it brought back the horror he felt when Goldie told him about her pregnancy. And it was Foxy's fault. So why would he feel guilty about trying to protect her from the man? He was just trying to help his own sister. He didn't want to see her get hurt, since he knew that she didn't want a baby, she didn't need that kind of responsibility. But now she was stuck with it, and he seriously doubted that Foxy would be willing to help her. It was his own fault, he should have seen it coming, he had to have known that his actions would have consequences and that he would be fired. Goldie was the daughter of his boss, after all. It should have been obvious.

But Foxy was his friend, and he had his own sister to take care of... Someone that Freddy cared about greatly himself. Work at the restaurant paid fairly well, and he knew it was enough to allow Foxy to scrape out their experience, and if he lost the job they would flounder. Was it fair to hurt Mangle to help Goldie? Foxy had promised to stay away from her, to be sober when interacting with her, he'd even suggested staying close to someone else just so he and Goldie wouldn't ever be alone together. And yet Freddy had cast him out, nearly crushing his neck in the process because he overreacted and took it out on his friend. He could have handled the whole situation better, in hindsight.

"Freddy, you're going to give him a call and offer him his job back," Chica said quietly. She picked at the hem of her shirt. "And you'll apologize for hurting him like that. We know you're upset and you're just worried about her, but attacking him like that was uncalled for. You'll do that, won't you? You'll call him?"

Freddy turned to face the young woman he practically saw as his second sister and nodded. Her shoulders dropped in relief. She shuffled back to her Bonnie's side and twined her fingers with his. Freddy looked away.

"I'll call him after work," he mumbled.

"Thank you, Fred. Where is your sister?"

"She's in the office," he answered. He moved toward the door and was just about to twist the knob when he had to jump back to avoid getting hit with the door. His voice caught in the his throat at the sight of the large man standing there. Chica and Bonnie gasped. He managed to smile a little, though his voice was strained when he spoke. "Hey, Dad. I assume you want to talk?"

Foxy forced his key into the slot in his door, growling under his breath when it didn't turn. He slammed his hip against the wood while forcing the metal key to turn, not missing a step. He took the few bags Mike held and left them on the couch while going to see where his sister was. Mike went to explore the living room.

"Marg? Where are you?" Foxy called, headed down the hall to his sister's room. He rapped on the flimsy wood, listening for any noise. Papers were shuffled for a moment before Mangle rolled to the door and opened it. She didn't let him inside.

"You're home early," she said lightly, her tires coming close to his feet. He stepped back to avoid getting pinned. She continued to force him to back up until they were in the living room. She pushed the wheelchair forward one last time and Foxy, in an attempt to get away, stepped back a little too far and sent both himself and Mike tumbling onto the couch.

Mike yelped as Foxy landed heavily in his lap. His face flushed at once, his hands coming up to rest on the redhead's hips automatically. He could feel the bones beneath the light fabric of his pants, the points pressing into the pads of his fingers. Foxy didn't move right away, and when he did it was only to move to sit on the cushion next to the server, their thighs touching. His face was almost as red as his hair.

"I don't have work," Foxy finally mumbled, lifting his gaze up to meet the curious one of his sister. He cleared his throat, rubbed his hands together then wiped his fleshy palm on his leg. He couldn't continue to look at his sister. "Freddy fired me."

"He _what_?" Mangle shrieked. Her long hands curled around the arms of the chair and it looked like she'd tear them straight off in one swift motion. Her names were as pink as her hair, Mike noticed. He kept his eyes off of the fiery ones of the vulpine woman. "Let me call him. I'll get your job back for you."

"I'll go back tomorrow and try talking to him," Foxy said, starting to stand. Mangle reached out and pressed on his knee to stop him. He stayed seated, though it was clearly to please her more than it was for his own comfort; he looked anxious and ready to jump up and pace from one end of the house to the other to get rid of his restless energy. He almost painfully reminded Mike of a caged animal ready to sprint from its prison the moment the door was free without the jailors to stop him. He was a bundle of energy with no way to release the excess. No wonder he worked with children, it was difficult to exhaust him.

"Why did he fire you? I know how much of an asset you are to his business."

"It's Goldie… She's…"

"Don't," Mangle interrupted. She raised her hands. "Pharaoh, how stupid _are _you? You should have thought things through before you did something like that! There are consequences!"

Foxy looked wounded, and without thinking Mike reached out and took the man's hand. He gave it a comforting squeeze before he even realized what he was doing. It was Mangle's hawkish gaze that made him aware.

"I know, Margaret… I'm sorry…"

It was her scoff that seemed to break him down the most. He pressed into the couch further, hunching his shoulders and casting his sad eye to the ground. He didn't make a sound, but he looked as though he would break at any moment. Her words, her opinions, her feelings, probably mattered more to him even than his own if even the pictures on the walls were any indication. Mike was under the impression that Foxy would give up anything and everything, even if it put himself at risk, for his little sister. To keep her happy and healthy no matter what happened. He was straining himself, hurting himself by pushing beyond his own breaking point, and he did it without complaint, without compensation.

"Hey, Mangle, we got you something," Mike said to distract her. It worked, for it let Foxy climb to his feet and escape to the kitchen while his sister was busy. He fished for the bag, finding it after a minute of searching blindly. He handed it to her and watched her face as she pulled out the book. Her eyes lit up upon seeing the golden cover decorated with bold, black lettering and an illustration of a grand pharaoh overseeing the construction of a pyramid. Tears started to fill her eyes. She ran a trembling hand over the thick spine then slowly cracked open the cover. She made a happy sort of noise in her throat and she smiled up at him, the adorable look of a child who had been handed the world.

"Th-thank you Mike," she whispered. He got up to let her enjoy her book in peace while he went to check on her brother. He was a little baffled at finding the fake arm on the dining table with its matching sock stuffed inside but he didn't question it. He found Foxy rubbing at the scar across his eye, face twisted into what looked like a grimace of pain.

"Foxy?" he called. All at once Foxy's posture changed. He stood straight, hand going to rest on the countertop in a forced sort of relaxed pose. His face was devoid of anything but a lazy smile that wasn't echoed by his eye.

"You can call me Fox," he corrected lightly, stepping away from the counter. He reached up to one of the cupboards and tugged it open roughly to get the rusty hinges to cooperate.

"I thought only your close friends called you that."

"If you're not a close friend, I don't know what to call you," Foxy said with a shrug. "Marg will love you forever for getting her that blasted book. For the next couple days that'll be all she'll talk about. She's obsessed with Egypt."

"She loves you."

"She loves the time period. I don't think it goes much deeper than that."

"Are you bleeding?" Mike asked suddenly. Foxy looked down at the stub of his arm and cursed, brushing past the other mad to head to his bedroom. Mike could hear his heavy footsteps followed by the creak of a bed frame. He waited, jumping to sit on the crumbly countertop, as his friend dealt with the damaged skin.

He chewed the inside of his mouth, casting a wary look at the prosthetic. So it was hurting him, worn down enough to start to cause problems. He hardly knew anything about the fake limbs amputees or people born without the appendages used but he guessed it was something similar to a shoe, something that could wear down until using it was not only uncomfortable, but painful. He'd had shoes in the past he'd worn so much they bit at the skin, rubbing and tearing until the layers pulled apart and bled. He imagined it was probably worse for Foxy, since he needed it to make his life easier and couldn't just forgo using it all the time. And unfortunately, the damage one did make it hard to use the other.

He made a mental note of it as Foxy returned, now wearing a shirt with a sleeve that hung down limply to hide the bandages. He slid from the counter to avoid getting scolded, almost stumbling into the taller man. The apartment was annoyingly small at times.

"Are you staying? Or are you going back to the restaurant to salvage what you can of your shift?" Foxy asked. Mike shrugged, looking up at the golden eye.

"Why don't I stay? Margaret's busy, so someone's got to bug you."

"If you're staying I'm putting you to work, lad. No free room and board here."

He laughed. "That's fine with me, Fox. What do you want me to do?"


	16. While at Fazbear's

Words in Chapter: 2176  
Written: March 25-27, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Freddy, Goldie, Foxy, Mangle, Chica, Bonnie, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized. Talk of abortion.  
_AN: Hello everyone, long time no see... First off, I'm so sorry for taking so long. School had me in a choke-hold and I had to dedicate all my time to it. And being sick is such a great thing for killing motivation. I'll be going back to my normal schedule now! I also have a couple one-shots I'm working on for FNaF :) Thank you all for your patience!

* * *

Freddy trailed after the large man that was his father, for once ashamed to be seen wearing his work costume. He held the hat between both hands, his large palms covering the little, round, fuzzy brown hears that stuck out from the sides. He was led into his father's office feeling like a child being taken to the principal's office for punishment.

His father rarely visited the restaurant, Freddy himself took care of most of the administrative affairs while his father tended to another more lucrative business venture. So when the man did visit, it usually didn't bode well for him. Normally it meant that the senior Mr. Fazbear had noticed their profits were down or that they were employing too many staff members and would have to cut down, or had some other kind of complaint that Freddy would have to fix if he wanted to get his father to stop breathing down his neck. It was a pain, and as much as he loved his father he really hated seeing him at the restaurant.

He wasn't at all shocked when he found Goldie sulking in the office chair. She sat with her legs crossed at the knee, tapping on the oak desk while pouting like a petulant child. She glanced in their direction when the door opened, but she didn't speak, drawing her arms tighter around herself as if to shield herself from them. Her makeup was smeared, tracks of mascara marked her cheeks. Freddy wondered just how long their father had been there talking to her before coming to find him.

"Sit," he ordered. Freddy pulled in a chair and sat at the desk beside his sister. He took one of her trembling hands out of their father's line of sight. "Goldie told me about her... situation."

"I'd assumed that's what you want to discuss..."

"I'm not against either of you, I love you both immensely. But I have more experience than you put together. And what I'm going to say is for your own good. I know you've run into trouble, Goldie, and that's what makes this whole thing worse. You acted irresponsibly with what money you had, and now that you're back it's with... _this._ What am I supposed to do with you, girl? You've never been too interested in your future, so now I'm stepping in. You can't have this baby," he said. His children stared in horror, protests already rising to their lips. Goldie wrapped her arms around her stomach protectively, curling in on herself. The older man's expression betrayed no sympathy. "You have two choices. Get an abortion, or find someone to take the baby. And I hope you don't have to terminate, but I'm more concerned about your future than the child's."

"Wh-what am I supposed to do?" She sobbed. "I didn't want this!"

"Then you'll fix it," he said. He approached her and wrapped his arms around her shaking form. He tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks to try to soothe her.

"Maybe Chica and Bonnie?" Freddy suggested weakly. He doubted it, though not because they wouldn't want to help but because they were still trying to get settled into their lives together. He didn't think they would be too inclined to add a baby to the mix yet. But it seemed to give her hope for she turned her big, watery blue eyes on him and he felt his heart break for her. He brushed a hand over her hair gently. "We'll figure this out, Gold."

"I'm sorry, Freddy," she whispered. He smiled a little. It fell when their father spoke up once more.

"And Fredrick?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want Pharaoh working here. After all the trouble he's caused here, it's not worth it. And it's my restaurant; what I say goes," their father said firmly, his stern gaze daring the son to say a word. He didn't. He couldn't. The older man nodded and headed toward the door, leaving his children shaken and upset. He really didn't want to instill that kind of misery in them, he loved them more than anything else, but if they were going to go in the wrong direction, he was going to step in to help stop them. He wanted the same success for them that he had. He didn't stay to see the damage his words had caused.

Goldie rose to her feet as soon as he was out of sight and slammed the door down, seething and sobbing all at once. A scream rose into her throat and she held it back if only to avoid alerting others outside the office to her distress. She felt her brother's hands come to rest on her thin shoulders. She ignored him at first, turning her angry eyes on the banner for the restaurant. Freddy's pride and joy. Her prison. She had to get away.

"Give me your keys, Fredrick," she said, holding her hand out. There was a fire in her eyes that Freddy had missed seeing since she left, but he worried she was about to do something stupid that would get her in trouble. He didn't move to complete her command and it angered her. "I just want your car keys. I'll bring your car back to you safe and sound without a scratch. If you don't give me yours, I'll just go get Bonnie's. Give them to me."

He had handed them over after a short argument and left her without a word. As he went back to work, she stormed from the establishment and drove to her destination nearly on the other side of the city.

She was nearly there, caught at an intersection by an uncooperative stoplight. Her phone, tossed into the empty passenger seat when she first climbed in, buzzed and she picked it up without thinking. She checked the text; she had hoped it was only Freddy texting her to check up on her but he never had it on him while he was working the tables. It was against company policy and he was one of those people who tried to stick to the rules. A shiver shook her.

'_How is your brother?' Is he well? I know you two went to the doctor's. Are you alright?'_

She brought her phone with her when she parked and shuffled inside, heading down the long ugly hall with its weight in her pocket. She found the door, number 19, and pounded on it until it was pulled open.

"Goldie? What are you doing here?" Foxy asked warily, angling his body so it stood as a barrier between Goldie and the apartment. He looked ready to shut the door on her; he kept his hand on the handle.

"I need to talk to you."

"It turned out great the last time we 'talked,' don't you think?"

"Oh shut up," she snapped. "I'm serious, I'm here for your own good."

Anger clouded his expression, he tried to slam the door, she shoved her foot into the gap so it didn't close. She shoved it into him so he had no choice but to step back and give her the room she needed. She pushed past him, nodding to both Mangle and Mike who were staring at her in surprise. Foxy roughly closed the door then moved toward the kitchen. Goldie had spent more than enough time with him to know his tactics, that he'd retreat to the kitchen so she couldn't talk to him, and grabbed his arm so he couldn't use his usual methods, forcing him to actually listen. She knew the way he worked.

"You are going to get yourself hurt, Pharaoh. You don't watch where you tread and that's going to cause trouble for you. You never learned from all those times you got beaten up, didn't you?"

"Get out," Foxy demanded. She didn't move, didn't let go of him, and he didn't force her to. He just stood there and glared, unable to raise a hand against a woman. She stepped closer and looked up at him in anger, daring him to continue to object. She tightened her grip on his arm until she could feel the bones within it dig into her palm.

"You're not going to win. Freddy _can't_ take you back, either. So I'm your only option. I can get you a good paying job somewhere else, or I'll hire you on myself. But this time you can't just run to Freddy for help like you always do. So if you want my help, you're going to have to listen. And trust me, it'll be much easier for us all if you don't fight me on this. Or do you want to struggle until you and your sister end up drowning in debt?"

"What happened to you?" Mangle asked suddenly. She joined them and pulled Foxy's arm free before turning her angry eyes on the larger woman. "I remember when you used to actually care, but you don't now so what are you trying to gain by harassing my brother?"

"It got out of hand, believe me... I never meant to actually get you fired, Pharaoh," she said. "I did aim to cause trouble, but never like this. I wanted you and Freddy to fight, but I never wanted you to get fired, I know you're supporting Margaret and I'd never want to risk making that harder, but I didn't expect to get pregnant either... So it's my fault and I'm going to try to fix it. We had been such friends before... You two, my brother, and I... You have to know I don't want to see you hurt. You and I were both good at attracting trouble, remember?"

His eye went to the window. It was a move so small, so simple, and yet so loaded with meaning to her. Her heart almost stopped. He knew. He was aware. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pressed a hand against it to try to quiet it but Foxy heard the sound. Their eyes met and she could see the questions just behind his lips. She could see it in the downward pull of his mouth, in the shine in his eyes. But he was likely as afraid as she was, for he didn't press the issue.

"I think you should join Freddy and I this weekend..." Goldie suggested, her tone light to keep the fear from freezing her. Her lips curved into a smile. "I'm inviting Bonnie and Chica as soon as I get back to the restaurant. Mike, you'll come too, won't you? You and Pharaoh are close, I know. I think he'll need his protector and close friend with him. You three really must attend; there's so much we need to discuss."

"We'll go," Foxy responded immediately. He guided her toward the door, glancing over his shoulder to catch Mike's eyes as he did so. "I'll walk you out, Goldie."

Mike waited until they were gone to turn to Mangle. He watched as she went straight to the window, throwing open the curtains to keep an eye on her brother the moment he and Goldie came into sight. He could hear a growl rising in her throat.

Goldie leaned her back against her car's door, waving her hand animatedly about something she was saying while she retrieved her phone from her pocket. She handed it over, her expression darkening as she listened to him speak. Mike thought he saw her glance in their direction before straightening up and moving to view the screen over Foxy's shoulder.

"What are they doing?" Mangle mumbled. Goldie pointed toward them and Foxy turned a little to look at them and wave before handing the phone back to his best friend's sister. Once she was in the car and on her way, he jogged back to their apartment.

Mangle pulled away from the window and shut the drapes, respecting her brother's wishes to keep them closed. She was not pleased, and she was sure to show him the minute he closed the door behind him. He approached her hesitantly, eye shifting between her angry face and Mike's curious one, before kneeling and taking her hand in his.

"I'm not trusting her completely, Marg. I'm not going to rush into this blind, I promise. So don't worry, alright? That's my job," he teased. The anger slowly started to drain from her. "I'll see what she can do about that job, and I'll talk to my other employer about getting more hours for now until then."

"I just want you to be careful, brother…" she whispered. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I will be. Mike, are you staying again tonight?" he asked, rising to his feet. Mike shrugged, and Foxy took it as a yes, moving off to clear off the couch for later.

The server just had to smile to himself, for it seemed he like was slowly but surely working his way into the family of Fazbear's Pizza's entertainers.


	17. You Should

Words in Chapter: 1537  
Written: March 28, 2015  
Current Character: Mike, Jeremy, Chica, Bonnie, Freddy, Foxy, Mangle, Goldie, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized._

* * *

_The belt across his lap was thick, made of leather or something else sturdy enough that it barely moved when he pulled on it. It was digging into his skin rather painfully and it only served to make his frightened heart beat faster. Why was he trapped? Who had forced him into the awful chair he was now condemned to occupy? Where was he? Why was he alone? What could he do?_

_He could hardly breathe. With trembling hands he reached out to where he knew the little black tablet was waiting for him. The cameras were already on, slowly but surely moving from left to right without a care in the world. He felt his blood pulsing in his veins and his breath catch in his throat. Did those horrid robots always look at the camera dead on like that with such human looking eyes? The ice returned to his heart and he forced himself to switch the views. _

_It was getting harder to breathe, as though each beat of his heart was causing his throat to swell and close. He could smell smoke, faintly, distantly, and in his panic he manically changed through the cameras to try to find the source. He could see smoke beginning to gather in the East Hall, seemingly billowing from where he knew there was the back room, the change room, or the kitchen, almost making it difficult to see anything at all. But through the smoke he thought he could see the glint of a metal blade reflecting the flickering of a flame. _

_He took a sharp breath, readying himself. This time he wouldn't freeze. He knew the man was coming and he was going to be ready for the maniac's arrival. There was something else looking out for him too, he recalled. _

_He turned the camera's sights to the purple curtain of Pirate's Cove and for a moment he wasn't looking through the tiny screen of a security device but through his own eyes at a crowd of children listening to a pirate's tale of grand adventure, the little kids all calling a name he knew he should remember but couldn't. It floated just beyond his grasp, lost in the smoky hazy of the dream. He tried hard to find it but was dragged back to the current moment, where the curtains were pulling apart. He watched the creature, its red fur torn and bloodied, turned its snout toward the lens. The animatronic appeared to watch the moving device for a moment before using its menacing hook to point at it. Its shiny yellow optic was nearly closed. A second later and it was off, racing in the direction of the very office that Mike was trapped within. _

_He could hear laughter coming from the hall, accompanied by quiet human footsteps. The hazy face of a man came into sight and he pressed further into the seat to get away from the man. He drew closer; Mike tried to get away. _

_They both turned to the left door when a screech broke the silence. The man's eyes widened along with his smile when the fox animatronic growled lowly, threateningly. The thick red tail swung back in forth. Its optic moved to Mike's face, a softer look crossing its face at seeing that he was unharmed. There was a flash of movement before the man took off, and the fox sprinted after him, disappearing down the East Hall and into the smoke. _

_There was a scream, and suddenly the bear and its friends appeared before him and they were pulling him from the office and away from the ever thickening black smoke. He struggled to get away, fear sending his thoughts racing, and he screamed. He couldn't hear his own voice over the blood pounding in his ears. The robot animals didn't appear to hear him either, for they continued to drag him by the back of his collar. _

_As they escaped the building, Mike thought he could see a golden bear watching him from one of the fading windows. _

Mike cried out, sitting up and clutching the covers. His heart was racing, the edges of his vision blurry in his panic. The lights were thrown on without warning and it startled him further, though reason was beginning to bleed back into his thoughts. He looked up at Foxy standing in the hall then past him to Mangle. He took a slow breath then offered them a weak smile, still trying to calm his heart. He'd woken them up, by the look of it. Guilt pooled in his chest.

"Are you alright?" Mangle asked in concern. He nodded a little as they came to join him and he made room for Foxy to sit at the end of the couch. He busied his hands by straightening the blanket to hide their trembling.

"Just a nightmare," he muttered. He glanced away then up at the vulpine man's face, studying his golden eyes. He reached out and touched the redhead's cheek. "Your eyes…"

"What about them?" Foxy questioned a little warily. He held still, even as Mike let his hand wander and explore the dips and curves of his face. His fingers moved to the smooth, scarred skin around the damaged eye. He realized what he was doing and pulled his hand back sharply.

"N-never mind," he said. He looked away from the two.

"Marg, go back to bed, you have school in the morning."

"Fox-"

"I'll make sure Mike's alright, and you need to sleep. If we need your help with anything, I promise I'll wake you, alright?"

"I'm going to hold you to that. Good night, boys."

Foxy retreated to the kitchen as Mangle left, returning a minute later lugging one of the dining chairs behind him. He dragged it over to the end of the couch near Mike's head and settled on it, picking up a book that had been left on the cluttered coffee table at some point as he did so. He propped his feet up on what little clear space there was on the tabletop before looking over at the server.

"Do you want to talk about that nightmare? Or your obsession with my eyes?" he asked nonchalantly, flipping the book open to begin reading. He left it open in his lap but kept his attention on Mike who blushed at the taller man's words.

"I-I'm not _obsessed_," he objected. Foxy just chuckled. "They're just… strange. I thought you wore contacts at first, but obviously you don't. It's, uh, cool. As for the nightmare… I keep having the same one, where I'm in this restaurant with a bunch of robots and a murderous psycho. There's this one robot, I think it's supposed to be some kinda fox, that keeps getting into the office. I think it's trying to protect me or something from that creepy man."

"It's reoccurring?"

"Yeah. And when I try to change it, something else happens so it always ends the same way. That fox robot kind of reminds me of you…"

Foxy laughed and smiled. "It's the name, isn't it?"

"Obviously, but it's got the same colour eyes as you. Hey, speaking of, where'd the name come from? I've been wondering for a while."

"It's from when we were kids, not even in school yet… Freddy started calling me Fox since I didn't like my name, and before long most of the other children couldn't even remember my real name. I still don't know why he called me Fox, and I doubt he remembers exactly why himself," he answered. He ran his thumb across the book's open pages absently, trying to recall the exact moment Freddy had picked that nickname for him. It was hard enough to remember a time when Freddy ever called him Pharaoh, much less when the switch had occurred. He shook his head and continued. "The others say it's because I look like one, while I think it's because it's always been my favourite animal so he thought it would be a good idea to call me it. We don't know for sure. You should try to go back to sleep, Mike."

"I'll try in a minute," he responded. He had one last question tugging at his mind insistantly, however, that he knew would prevent him from getting to sleep until it was answered. He cleared his throat, reclaiming Foxy's attention as the redhead had already begun to read the book. "What are you going to do about Goldie? And the baby?"

"I don't know… I'm not sure I'm ready for the responsibility of raising a child, but… it's partially my fault, isn't it? My actions helped lead to this, so I'll accept it and try to help where I can," he answered quietly. He got up and shut the light off. The dim glow of the moon which floated in through the crack in the drapes cast eerie shadows on his forlorn face. Mike rolled over so he didn't have to continue to see that horribly sad expression. "Go to sleep, Mike. We can talk more tomorrow."

Mike closed his eyes and tried hard to sleep, the look on Foxy's face haunting him in his dreams.


	18. Obey

Words in Chapter: 1507  
Written: March 29, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Chica, Bonnie, Freddy, Foxy, Mangle, Goldie, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized._

* * *

Waking up the following morning was harder than he expected. While he knew he was going to be sore, and boy sore was an understatement, he didn't think he'd awaken to a pounding headache between his brows that wouldn't go away. Light was just beginning to flood the room as the curtains were open for once, and it made his aching body feel worse. He drew the blanket up over his eyes, groaning a little to himself in protest. He didn't want to be awake.

The persistent ticking of a clock reminded him that he couldn't just lay there for the rest of the day, he did have work after all, but he didn't move from the warmth of the uncomfortable cushions. He figured he probably had some time, otherwise Foxy would be pulling him off the couch by his feet.

He listened for Foxy's presence, for the rustle of papers or even just the soft breaths of sleep. He didn't hear either and cracked an eye open. There were hardly any noises beyond his own breathing and movement.

"Foxy?" he called a little nervously, hoping for some sign that he wasn't alone. Something fell in the kitchen, making him jump.

"He went out," Mangle answered. Mike sighed and relaxed, rising to his feet and folding the blanket up. He left it on the arm of the couch. He went out to see her, and she pushed a full plate of waffles in his direction. They were still warm. "He left a note, saying he'll be back later tonight. If you leave your clothes here, I'll put a load in and return them to you next time I see you. We've got an extra server's uniform, so you can wear that."

"No offense, but I don't think anything you or your brother could wear would fit. You're both kind of small."

She laughed and moved past him to retrieve a box he hadn't noticed earlier that had been placed on the chair Foxy had occupied during the night. She set it in her lap and returned to him, opening the top. She pulled out a couple uniforms, finally offering him one she thought he'd fit into. He blushed a little. He went to change while she went back to her breakfast.

He left the clothes on the sink's counter and peeled off his shirt. He knocked the mirror of the cabinet accidentally, making it swing open almost into his face. He batted it away, catching a glimpse of the number of medication bottles lining the shelves. Curiosity getting the better of him, he reached out and picked one up, unsurprised to find Margaret's name on it. He found that most of them bore her name. He frowned a little, playing with the cap until it popped off in his palm.

He reminded himself that he was getting too deeply caught in their lives and now there was no turning back. He was attached and if he even tried to sever ties with him, he'd end up right back where he started. They wouldn't let him go, their web was just too strong, and he couldn't turn his back on the damaged people he called friends. Whenever he thought things were getting simpler, it all started to slip away from him again, getting out of control faster than he could hold on.

Outside the room, he heard floorboards creaking under the weight of the wheelchair. He put the bottle back where he'd found it, a bitter taste filling his mouth as he turned away from it. He dressed quickly, eager to get out of their apartment. He didn't like being in it without Foxy, though he wasn't quite sure why. It just seemed colder.

He opened the door slowly in case Mangle was nearby, stepping out into the hall. He headed back toward the kitchen, wiping his palms off on his pants. She had moved while he was changing, waiting for him in the living room.

"Do you need anything?" she asked. "Lunch for work, a ride from one of the others, anything at all?"

"I'm fine," he replied with a smile. He walked over to her and ran a hand through her long hair, messing up the loose ponytail she had pulled it into. She yelped and laughed and tried to push him away. He grabbed the tie as it fell, holding it out of her reach so she stretched to get it, giggles still pouring from her lips as she tried to pull his arm down. He grinned at her and she gave him a pout, continuing to reach for it.

"Come on, that's not fair!" she whined. He wiggled his fingers at her. She rocked the chair forward a bit, lowering her hand so it brushed the skin of stomach. He took a sharp breath, trying not to react. He dropped the hair tie into her outstretched palm. "Aha! I win!"

"Cheater," he grumbled. He rubbed her hair one last time before flopping back onto the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "I've got to go to work soon, don't I?"

"In a few minutes, yes."

"I'm gonna end up here a lot, aren't I?"

"If I have my way," she said sweetly. He looked over at her, raising an eyebrow at her light smile.

"At this rate, I might as well get a spare key for your apart-" he cut himself off when she tossed something at him so it hit him square in the chest. He sat up and picked it up, eyes widening when he saw what it was. The key was worn from use, the teeth starting to look dulled at the edges, and the pink metal was scratched. "Y-you're just… giving me one? What would Foxy say? And you shouldn't trust people with things like this, you don't know if you're putting your life at risk."

"It's my key, so what I choose to do with it should be my own business. And the fact that you're warning me of that proves you're harmless as a butterfly, Mike. Stop worrying! I think you've proven you're not going to stab us in our sleep. Now you've got work and I should be getting ready for work, so get moving," she said. She shooed him with her hands and a smile. He left with the key in his hand.

He was just stepping onto the sidewalk when a rattly old car pulled up. The driver reached over and shoved the passenger door open so suddenly Mike had to jump back not to get hit. He looked inside to see Bonnie's nervous face grinning at him.

"H-hey, thought I'd find you here! Want a ride?" he asked sheepishly. Mike climbed in, buckling in immediately as a car behind them honked and they had no choice but pull away from the curb. He glanced over at Bonnie, waiting for him to explain. The entertainer simply kept his eyes on the road, not acknowledging the young man sitting next to him.

Mike looked in the rear view mirror, finding nothing interesting to look at beyond a box in the back with a few notebooks next to it. He sighed and sunk in his seat.

"So where's Chica?" he asked, not wanting to sit in silence. He turned his eyes to the window.

"On her way to work. She doesn't live with me," Bonnie answered after a minute. He shifted gears, ignoring the way the car shuddered. "I wanted to make it up to you, for Freddy's outburst yesterday… I figured you'd stay with him."

"With Foxy?"

"You're… you're a good friend, Mikey."

"How'd you guys meet, anyways?"

"Freddy was the popular kid, so he knew them all from the beginning. I ran into them when my 'friends' wanted me to prove myself by bullying one of them. So I did what they wanted, and I picked the one I thought was the easiest target," Bonnie said on a sigh. "I'm not proud of it, but I bullied Chica a lot when we were kids. I met the others is because they wanted to help her and protect her."

"So that's what she meant with getting beaten up?"

"Yeah, Foxy was the one to step in, and I got what I deserved, at the expense of my dignity… I think it was one of the girls that convinced him and Freddy to give me a second chance. I took it, just to keep from getting beaten up again. Foxy's got a nasty left hook."

Mike snorted, Bonnie looked pleased with himself.

"What's with the box?"

"Chica put it back there, I have _no_ idea what's in it," Bonnie answered, more cheer in his voice now. He seemed more at ease, as though the simple chat had removed some of his discomfort. He smiled at Mike. "You're gonna stick around, right? Not planning on skippin' town any time soon, are ya?"

"What, with all the drama going on at the restaurant? I wouldn't miss it for the world."


	19. The Rules

Words in Chapter: 1371  
Written: March 30, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Foxy, Goldie, Mangle, Chica, Bonnie, Freddy, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_  
AN: I'll have a longer chapter out tomorrow. The reason this one is so short? Being the chicken that I am, I was completely and utterly against trying my hand at Five Nights at Freddy's since, honestly, I can't handle horror. But one of my lovely friends wanted to play it, and she wanted someone to support her and play it with her. So I watched her play the first few nights, and I actually gave it a shot myself! It resulted in some pretty funny incidents I'll never forget (oneincludingFoxybetrayingmeandgivingmeaheartattackwhenIleastexpectedit) but it shook me up pretty bad. Next time I'll try to write the full chapter _before_ playing a few nights of the game, since now I know I'll be left shaking for a while afterwards. Anyway, I'm so sorry for rambling, and I'll try my absolute best to make tomorrow's chapter longer than the 2000 word average I've been aiming for.

* * *

"...and you're telling me the truth?" Mike asked as they climbed out. Bonnie grinned at him and winked, only making him laugh. "I didn't know that was even possible!"

"Well, now you know!"

"I can't believe it," he said as they approached the door. Bonnie dragged him toward the back, to which he grumbled but followed anyway. What was the point in fighting these guys? They got their way, regardless of what he did. "Am I just gonna watch you get dressed every day?"

"Uh… I didn't think about it like that…" the entertainer answered, blushing a little. He let go of other man's arm immediately. He started to awkwardly shuffle his feet, seemingly bothered by his own embarrassment. Mike tried not to laugh at his misery, motioning for the taller man to follow him. Bonnie raced after him.

Mike leaned against the wall when they headed inside, letting the entertainers get into costume in peace. They kept their chatting to a minimum, since none of them felt all that interested in talking without their final member of the group. Even Goldie was preoccupied, needing Freddy to encourage her to dress.

Chica fidgeted by her locker, turning the lock over in her hands nervously before raising her head to speak.

"What are we doing with his costume, Freddy? Are we keeping it?"

Freddy stopped what he was doing, turning sad eyes on the blonde. He shrugged a little, putting on his hat halfheartedly. Goldie looked to her brother, hanging onto his every word when he did finally speak.

"I'm going to take it home, just in case I can convince my father to let me rehire him. If I can't… then I guess I'll just give it to him, maybe he'll wear it as a halloween costume or something."

"Or you just rehire him without consulting Father since it's _your_ business too. It's for the good of the restaurant, since he's a crowd pleaser," Goldie suggested. "If you want my advice, just do it without talking to him, and then when he does confront you, don't give him some sob story on why Pharaoh needs this job specifically. Just give him the cold facts. Foxy brings in perhaps the most profit out of all of us, since he's got the appeal of being a pirate and his stories charm both the kids and the adults. He's attractive, young, the mothers or young women enjoying watching him. He works hard and makes up for lost hours wherever he can. Dad doesn't give sympathy. But he _will_ listen to solid evidence, you just have to present it."

"And if he decides he wants to fight me on it?"

"Send him my way, Fredrick. I'll convince him. He wants carbon copies, children with the same business savvy that put him on the top. You're soft, in his eyes. And while I think we all appreciate that in you, Father wants you to be so much more. And when you don't provide that, he imposes his will on you, regardless of what you want. You have to speak his language."

Goldie moved away from them and got her classy jacket on just the way she wanted. She admired herself in the mirror, Mike thought he saw her eyes move to the reflection of her stomach, before finishing the look with the top hat. She nodded on her way out the door, wiggling her fingers at her brother in a farewell.

Freddy returned to the bench, letting his head fall back harshly so it connected with the wall with a dull thud. He examined the worn hat in his hands. It was an old thing, ratty when they first got it, but it had lasted him since they opened the restaurant. It had been what had started it all, the idea of what the theme could be and what they could do with it all. Mangle had been the one to help sew the ears on, and he could see the strong stitches that held them in place were starting to fray. The hat had only been the beginning of it all. It had been the beginning of something wonderful, an experience he wanted to share with others because it had been such a positive influence on him. And yet… it was becoming the source of so much strife between them all, between the staff members as a whole, between his friends…

"What if… I gave the role of the pirate to… someone else?" he asked slowly, not lifting his eyes to theirs, knowing before he even spoke that the reaction wouldn't be positive. He was right, for they all immediately began to speak over one another, each demanding that their protests be heard over the rest. He could hardly tell Chica's voice from Bonnie's and from Mike's. He raised his own, overpowering theirs entirely, and explained, "I'm only thinking that if we were to offer the job to the servers, then we could potentially prove that we do, in fact, want to work with them. It may be the step we need to take to encourage them to accept that we aren't above them, nor do we believe that we are."

"But what about Foxy?" Chica questioned, distress deep in her voice.

"He's on his own this time," he replied. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to hurt his best friends, but he had to think of the business too. If they wanted to keep their jobs themselves, he needed to keep the restaurant alive and thriving. He couldn't always be 'soft' if he wanted to be successful. And it hurt him just as much as it hurt them to think that they couldn't support their friends. Foxy and Mangle were practically family, but they weren't the be all and end all.

Chica was the first to storm off, as he expected. She glared at him as she left. Her finance finished getting dressed before following her lead, looking more worn out than angry. Freddy assumed he understood the concept and was just tired of it all.

He looked to Mike and waited for the young man to leave, only to be a little shocked when the brunet joined him against the wall instead. They sat in silence for a while until Mike picked up the neatly folded shirt and jacket of the brown bear costume. He left the jacket in his lap while he focused on the shirt, unbuttoning the front so the large shirt hung open. He felt the thin fabric, rubbing a thumb over the decorative frills on either side of the button strips. He offered it to Freddy, watching as the large man reluctantly took it and slipped it on, leaving the front undone. Mike moved onto the jacket, standing to let it unfurl. The material was nice, some sort of velvet that was soft but faded beneath his palms from so much use. It was big enough it almost dwarfed him, for Freddy was naturally a bigger man and being a bit on the overweight side of things certainly made him seem larger still. He held it up, helping Freddy put each arm through the sleeves until it fit snugly against his shoulders.

"It's a good idea," he said, picking up the entertainer's hat. "Getting a server to become one of you. Sets a good example for the rest of us… But are you sure you wanna deal with the falling out?"

"I don't have much of a choice, son. It's either get my father to turn his back on me, or turn my back on my friends. Foxy would understand. It's just the others who don't."

"It's not Foxy that's the problem."

"I don't fancy the idea of upsetting any of them… I don't enjoy upsetting them. And knowing that by not rehiring Foxy will hurt Margaret too... " he sighed and picked up the hat, dusting it off gingerly before setting it atop his head. "I see her so rarely as it is… Foxy will manage fine without my help, he's done it before. I'll do what I can to help him, but his career here at Fazbear's is over. We've all got to move on."


	20. At All Times

Words in Chapter: 2838  
Written: March 31, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, another server, Freddy, Foxy, Goldie, Mangle, Chica, Bonnie, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_.  
AN: To the guest toma, don't worry, you're right, you aren't missing anything. Don't be confused :)

* * *

Mike hardly interacted with the entertainers for the rest of the day. He kept to himself, unwilling to endure listening to the fake cheer they forced into their voices. Chica went so far as to avoid the kitchen, so for lunch he retreated there to get away from the noise of the dining area and the weight of his friends' misery. It was just a job, and there were plenty more out there to find, but he knew it ran so much deeper than that. They were a family, and it was like cutting off ties with one of them, especially since Foxy wasn't exactly very social to begin with and getting in touch with him was fairly hard. But still, he didn't want to sit there wallowing with them since they felt the change more acutely than he did and it didn't feel right to intrude. So he minded his own business and for once braved the kitchen.

Jeremy had beaten him there, already sitting off to the side where most of the servers hung out on their breaks, mixing a salad he'd brought from home. He grinned at Mike, sliding over on the little bench that was set up near the corner of the room.

"Did you hear the rumor?"

"What rumor?"

"We all knew that one of the entertainers was gone, but now we're hearing that the job's opened up to us!" Jeremy said, his eyes wide and eager. Mike had to swallow the clear the growing lump from his throat. He nodded mutely, and his friend caught the sudden change. "I know you're close to them, and it's a shame the guy lost his job. I'm not happy that he's not working here anymore. That's not why I'm excited."

"It was Foxy..."

"I know, and I'm sorry that he's gone. How close are you two?"

Mike didn't have an answer for that one. He'd never asked it before himself. He knew they were close, especially if what Mangle said was true, and he had no reason to doubt her. And he knew from his own side of things that all he wanted to really do was spend time with the other man, though he couldn't exactly pinpoint why. He enjoyed the time he was with Foxy, whether it was just chatting before work or spending the night at the man's house, he didn't care. But he'd never spoken to him about whether not he felt the same way; he wasn't going to ask Foxy such a question, either, since the idea of talking to him about something like that made him uncomfortable. He left it at a shrug, ignoring the look that crept into his friend's eyes.

They were joined by another server, one Mike didn't know. He stretched out lazily next to them, popping his back and stretching his arms above his head so the almost gray skin of his stomach was exposed. Once he was satisfied his body had finished cracking, he let out a long groan and slung an arm over Mike's shoulders.

"Hey, Jer! Who's this? New kid?" the man wheezed, his wide grin showing off smoker's teeth. He stunk of it, and the stench made Mike's chest tighten.

"He's not new, been here a year at least. His name's Mike."

The man stuck a hand in his face, a bony thing with spidery fingers and crooked nails. It was larger than Mike's when they shook hands, and the man had enough of a grip to nearly rearrange the bones. Mike squeezed in return, partially out of spite, partially to try to be polite.

"Fritz. Nice to meet ya!" He pulled his hand back and surveyed the kitchen while Mike turned wide, unbelieving eyes on Jeremy. All he got was a smile. "So what's for lunch?"

"There's a pizza in the fridge," Jeremy responded. And then Fritz was off to investigate to see what food he could scoop, rummaging around noisily.

They sat in silence, Jeremy going back to his salad while they watched Fritz and the other kitchen staff. The door was thrown open and in walked an entertainer, arms full of empty dishes that needed to be washed. The busboy raced forward and took the heavy tray from Freddy, muttering something about needing a break from the rush, and the man simply chuckled, grabbed the next tray brimming with steaming dishes, then headed right back out onto the floor.

The next to come in was Bonnie who nearly tripped over Fritz as he rushed back to the bench. He looked at them quizzically but continued with his own task. He grabbed one of the trays then turned to face Mike and the others.

"Any of you gonna apply for that opening?" he asked, something welcoming in his voice as if he was trying to entice them. He didn't look at Mike, instead keeping his eyes on Fritz and Jeremy.

"I might…" Jeremy mumbled. "It's a good job and I could use some extra spending money. I don't know if I'll get the part or not anyway."

"There's no harm in applying!"

"Ah, you'll get the job, Jer. Don't worry a hair on your head about it!" Friz said with a grin. He shoved almost an entire pizza slice into his mouth at once so sauce dripped from his mouth and down his chin. He gave them a cheesy smile. Bonnie started to laugh, Jeremy rolled his eyes, and Mike just got to his feet.

"Need any help with those tables, Bon?"

"Wanna grab that other tray? My tables are fussy today," he answered, jerking his head toward the black tray waiting on the counter so his big bunny ears bounced and almost moved the plastic nose piece they were attached to. He smiled and bade the other two servers farewell before slipping out into the dining room. Mike lingered a moment longer and turned to Jeremy.

"Promise me that if you get Foxy's old job you'll try to help me teach the other servers that the entertainers are good people? I'm tired of it being us against them. So are you going to help me?"

Mike was glad when his friend nodded. He went out after Bonnie, feeling a lot better about the situation knowing that he had someone else on his side.

The following day, the Saturday that Goldie wanted them all together, was a cold one, with rain that streaked the windows and clouds that hung heavy and gray over everyone and everything. Rolling out of his warm, comfortable bed was the worst, for the wooden floors had yet to gather any warmth and the air was cooler than his skin. He sat there on his bed for awhile, blankly staring at the swirls in the wood while waiting for his body to adjust to the change. The light on his phone flashed at him periodically to attempt to snag his attention. He picked it up while getting to his feet.

It was nearing the noon hour now, and while it made him curse and groan, he'd expected it. He would have set an alarm but he figured it was the weekend, and with all that he'd had to deal with all week he had earned a break, so he might as well take advantage of the extra time available and sleep in while he could. And one of the entertainers would text him until he woke up, of that he was sure. Especially since the text message his phone was trying to tell him about happened to be one from Freddy.

'_Bonnie will be picking you up today. Chica's borrowing my car and getting the other two.'_

He grabbed a shower then dressed before puttering about his house until the time came for Bonnie to get him. He was ready this time, standing on the sidewalk outside his apartment building but not so close to the curb that Bonnie could almost take him out with the door should he get over excited at seeing him. He played on his phone while he waited, flipping idly through old pictures of his family, of his older sister and younger brother especially, lingering a while on one where his siblings and parents stood in front of his college, smiling at the camera tearfully as they said their goodbyes. He smiled sadly at it and toyed with the idea of giving his parents a call when he got home from visiting Freddy's.

He put away his phone when he heard Bonnie pull up. He climbed in and buckled right away, glancing at the man to see him smiling widely at him, as per usual. He flashed one back at him.

"Goldie's waitin' for us. Mangle's already at her house, so's Chica, we're just waiting on Foxy to get off work so Freddy can go pick him up. We're gonna have to wait for him, but we'll keep ya busy so you won't get bored," Bonnie explained cheerfully, putting his car into drive. "Gold loves hosting stuff so it should be fun. As much as it's all for a serious chat, she'll prob'ly have some music and lots of snacks."

"No wonder she's a good entertainer."

"It's all about the energy," he said with a grin. He continued to talk without pause as they drove, not noticing when Mike's attention slipped away. It wasn't the server's fault though, for at some point in the drive they crossed the line between the shabby looking shacks he and the rest lived in, moving into the fancy mansions that only the richest families could own. They seemed to get bigger and bigger, grander and grander, until living in one of them seemed almost unimaginable. How could a family live in a house so… so _huge?_

He was stunned, completely and utterly speechless, when they pulled up to the sleek house that belonged to Fredrick Fazbear. It was only two stories, with the second being smaller and mostly there for show. Its roof was angled sharply at a 45, the black contrasting with the white siding. Any decorative trim was done in that same black, making the entire building look stark. The interior, he learned upon entering with Bonnie, kept the same look with dark flooring and bright walls. The only colour came from the paintings Freddy had hanging on the walls and smaller pieces like vases with fake flowers placed here or there to make it more friendly.

The concept of the house was open too, with half walls to divide the kitchen from the dining room, and the dining room from the living room. One room seemed to flow and bleed into another. The only things that changed as you moved from one room to another were the decorative touches. The living room displayed a plain red rug that took up half of the floor with a black coffee table set in the center of it. The dining room had blue placemats, and the centerpiece were flowers of the same powder blue. The kitchen had yellow towels and little figurines of animals. They were all so beautiful, but it felt distant from Freddy's own personality, as if someone had handed him the perfect little place and expected him to keep it essentially the same as he'd received it. He'd never come off as the kind of man who'd like a home that looked like it came out of a magazine or a flyer's ad.

But when Goldie walked in and stood amongst the pretty flowers that were displayed without so much as a single solitary petal out of place, she seemed to be the missing piece to the puzzle that fit snuggly with its neighbours. The house was very Goldie, not Freddy.

"Welcome," Goldie called. Her hair was up and tied into a ponytail so a few stray strands slid into her eyes. She wore the type of outfit that clearly said 'I want you to love me' which made him think she was probably wearing that tiny golden skirt with a low cut white blouse to impress Foxy. He nearly rolled his eyes. Women, sometimes, didn't understand how pointless their attempts really were. Goldie never seemed to get the memo. "Feel free to make yourself at home, Mike. There are snacks in the cupboard if you get hungry and you don't like what's set out, the bathroom is the first door on your right, and you're more than welcome to put something on to watch while we wait."

"How long do you think it'll be?" he asked. She shrugged a shoulder, the shirt slipping a little to expose some more of her milky skin. He kept his eyes up on hers.

"Shouldn't be too long, now. Freddy was just leaving as you got here."

"I thought we'd passed his car," Bonnie said. He left them to go find his lovely lady. Mike glanced from her to the door and wondered whether or not he could make a break for it without getting ridiculed for avoiding her. She moved to the fridge and left a hand on the handle.

"Would you like a beer?" she questioned sweetly. He frowned at her.

"You're not drinking, are you?"

"Good heavens, no. I don't want to hurt the baby. You think I'm quite awful, don't you?"

"That's all you've shown me."

"Well, I hope one day you'll think differently of me, Mike. I've lost the war, now I'm only in battle with you, by the look of things. You're free to get as close as you like to Foxy, but I guess I should warn you that he is, in fact, more dangerous than he appears. He's a nasty person, at times. But it's human nature, isn't it? We all tend to become horrible people when we're allowed to be ourselves. I'm surprised the world isn't worse than it is now. We kill each other so often, after all. Humans are wonderful, don't you think?"

He humphed, stepping around her to go into the living room. Mangle waved her hand for him to join her, and he did right away, almost racing to get to her. He sunk into the chair beside hers and grabbed a handful of chips from the bowl in her lap. She questioned him only vaguely about his day was or how work went, and he guessed it was because her brother belonged there working with him and yet he was fired while Mike kept his job. He kept his answers light to avoid touching a sensitive topic that could set her off.

They talked until Freddy joined them with her brother, who seemed a little worse for the wear. Foxy kept his fingers pressed against the scar over his eye as if trying to relieve some unknown pain that wouldn't relent and let him relax. He stalked over to his sister and stood behind her chair, leaning his stump and elbow on the handles.

Goldie entered the room then, taking center stage. She cleared her throat and rubbed her hands together, looking nervous.

"We've already told you that we're going to be having one of the servers join us as an entertainer. We've got a couple of people in mind but we need to have them audition for the part and finish their applications and all of that before we even begin to think of promoting them. But that's not why we called you here," she said. At this point, her voice began to trail off and she wrung her hands from nervous. After deciding on her approach to the next topic, she pressed one hand against the flat of her stomach and looked specifically at Foxy. "Our father wants me to get rid of the baby. And… since you've all been a big part of things, whether it was from the very beginning, or in Mike's case more recently, we thought you might want to know. We were… hoping… that maybe one of you would be willing… to adopt the baby, when it's born?"

They looked to Chica and Bonnie, knowing that they would be the best fit for a child, for they were together and in a stable relationship that would likely last until death parted them for a while. They didn't have riches, but they weren't struggling financially to make it from paycheck to paycheck. They had money saved and stashed away, just in case. They would be able to provide a baby with all the love it needed, and would eventually, most likely, add to the family with their own biological children.

But they didn't answer. They made no move to, no clear sign that they were going to either. Goldie's face started to crumble, Freddy stepped forward to comfort her and reassure her that there were other options.

But he didn't have to. For as soon as it became clear that Chica and Bonnie were going to continue to hold their silence, two voices rang out calm and crisp and clear.

"We'll take it."


	21. So

Words in Chapter: 1223  
Written: April 1, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Freddy, Foxy, Goldie, Mangle, Chica, Bonnie, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_.

* * *

The two looked at each other in amusement, each not expecting the other to have spoken up, but neither retracted their statement, even when the others started to object.

"Are you insane? You can't-!"

"How are you going to-?"

"I thought you said-"

Foxy raised his hands, silencing them all without raising his own voice. He sighed, rubbing the soft pad of his palm against his useless eye to try to relieve some of the pain that resided there just beneath the skin.

"I'll start with you, Mike. I know what I said, but I figured we'd end up here. I love kids, I just... didn't think I'd be getting one so soon. I'm still trying to get Margaret through school. And I'm doing it by myself, which makes it harder. But if I'm the father... I should do what I can to help. I'd end up paying child support anyway. This'll just make it easier for everyone," he said, ending with a shrug. Mangle reached up and took his hand.

"And we can always just childproof the apartment. We rearranged and changed everything after the accident and we've done fine. Our schedules are flipped too, so when I'm not home he is, and when he's at work I'm at home," she added. "You need someone to take the child, and both of us are willing, what's the problem?"

"You're still in school, he's working more hours than he can handle, and a child is a lot of extra stress... Are you sure you want to take that on?" Freddy asked. They nodded, to which he just exhaled. "There you go, Gold. The parents for your baby."

She stepped toward them, a trembling hand pressed to her mouth and tears filling her eyes. Then a moment later she was hugging Foxy so tightly it knocked the air from his lungs and he had to hold his own arm to keep from clawing her to get her off so he could breathe. She held onto great fistfuls of the back of his shirt.

"Th-thank you," she said sincerely. She tightened her grip on him, not hearing the pained wheeze he gave. It was only when a chuckling Freddy pulled her back that she let go. She continued to smile up at him, utterly relieved. "You're helping me so much, Foxy… I never wanted to get an abortion, and knowing my father he'd force me to do it… You'll be a good father, I know it."

He kept quiet, moving to stand behind Mangle's wheelchair as if it use her as a barrier against the rest of them. He rubbed at his good hand with the fake fingers of the prosthetic, shooting a look at Freddy that had the larger man walking off toward the kitchen. When he returned, it was a painkiller in his hand and a glass of water in the other. He handed it over and Foxy took it quickly, though he nursed the water.

They got settled in the living room, turning on some sort of action movie that Mike didn't pay much attention to beyond the opening chase scene. He was wedged between Freddy and Foxy as Bonnie and Chica had raced off ahead of the rest of them to claim the arm chair. She was in his lap, and Bonnie kept kissing the length of her neck and whispering to her so she giggled noisily. The sounds they were making were distracting, and they took from the excitement that the movie was trying to make its viewers feel. And while he wasn't particularly bothered by it, they were a young couple in love after all and they were quite happy, it was making it hard to hear the dialogue and Goldie's occasional teasing comment didn't help matters.

It was Freddy who finally asked them to cut it out or at least try to quiet down, about half an hour into the movie. He himself had been fidgeting, shifting almost constantly so the couch creaked and squeaked, seemingly unable to sit still for once. He grabbed the remote and cranked up the volume which made the surround sound speakers startle Foxy who had begun to drift off. Bonnie and Chica said their apologies quickly and fell silent to avoid the bear's wrath. He sunk further into the couch cushions and sulked. Beside him, Mangle giggled.

"Relax," she teased. "It's just a movie. You can rewatch it again later when they're not around. Don't let them get to you, Fred."

Mike thought he saw a rosy tint in Freddy's cheeks. The entertainer grunted in reply, only earning another airy laugh from the vulpine girl. She reached over and gave his arm a comforting pat, her touch lingering on his arm. Upon glancing past Mangle's shoulder, he saw Goldie watching them. Two sets of blue eyes met, and the woman's were filled with a familiar sort anticipation and he knew at that moment what she was thinking, especially when she briefly looked to her brother and back.

He looked away when he felt Foxy move, the ex-entertainer's hip pressing into his leg as he tried to get more comfortable. He held his breath for a moment, holding still until the adjusting stopped and Foxy groaned in defeat. He leaned in close to the redhead to be heard over the movie without disturbing Freddy.

"You could go to sleep."

"Not really nice to do to company, is it?"

"You're exhausted, they understand. Go ahead and nap," he said quietly. Foxy debated it for a second longer before shrugging and giving in, shifting again to be sitting upright properly. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, falling asleep within a few short minutes. Mike smiled to himself, going back to watching the movie as best he could while trying to tune out the soft conversation occurring off to his immediate right.

At one point, much later on in the movie, Goldie's phone chimed and she went off to answer it, muttering to herself as she did. Mike thought he caught the word 'stalker' in there somewhere but wasn't quite sure. He was watching as she came back though, her skin a little paler and her shoulders a little more hunched. She returned to her seat with an apple in hand that she bit into viciously, apparently taking her anger out on an innocent fruit instead of one of the others. She looked in his direction then stubbornly went back to watching the movie, almost daring him to call her out on the cell phone conversation. He didn't.

Luckily for her, his attention was drawn away from her as Foxy moved in his sleep so his head came to rest on Mike's shoulder. Startled, the server tried his best to stay still to not wake him. His hand moved to rest on the couch beside Foxy's knee then back up onto his own, for he felt that one of the others would call him out on it if he even touched the taller man.

"Is he asleep?" Chica asked suddenly. Mike looked up to find the others all focused on him and Foxy and shrugged the shoulder Foxy wasn't currently using for a pillow. The female entertainer smiled.

"Looks like you and Fox are staying the night, Margaret," Goldie said. Mangle just smiled.


	22. Noone

Words in Chapter: 1916  
Written: April 2-3, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Fritz, Jeremy, Goldie, Freddy, Foxy, Mangle, Chica, Bonnie, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized_  
AN: Sorry for the lack of an update yesterday.

* * *

Two weeks later, they had a new entertainer. Freddy and Jeremy were waiting by the door chatting when Mike arrived to work a Monday morning. He'd been called in about an hour earlier than normal with the vague explanation that he'd be receiving some kind of extra training. And since he'd been offered pay for that hour or two of his time, he had agreed though he was a little confused. He'd been trained during his first day there well over a year ago, and from what he knew nothing had changed since then and he certainly hadn't applied for the role of entertainer.

Freddy clapped his back in a friendly manner, almost knocking him from his feet. He steadied himself before looking up at the warm face of his friend. He was led along with Jeremy out of the dining area toward the back change room. They passed it and stopped outside a small room Mike hardly remembered seeing before. The door was plastered from top to bottom with advertisements and kid's drawings so thickly that it almost didn't look like a door.

Freddy slid a key into the partially covered lock, roughly forcing it to turn. The rest of the keys on the thick ring jingled as it finally twisted with a muted complaint. He shoved the door open with his shoulder and the hinges yowled. He moved into the center of the room and pulled on a string hanging from the ceiling, a dim light suddenly filling the room. The far side of the room was lined with the same sort of shelving as the change room, through from these hung dusty clothes of different colors. A section was a range of browns, each warmer than the next, another was a mixture of dark violets and indigos that slowly turned into baby blues as you moved down the racks, a strip of gold pieces, a bit of yellows, and the last a sea of reds and a few pinks. Most of the costume pieces looked unused but dusty, while a couple looked like they had just been hastily forced onto the hanger for the sake of putting it away before the day ended.

Freddy went to the rack and shoved aside the golden clothing to reach into the earthy browns, pulling out one he thought would fit Jeremy. It was a newer jacket than the one Freddy wore, a lighter tone too, with shiny black buttons that winked in the light. He tossed it to Jeremy, not waiting for the boy to fumble and catch it, then dug through a box off to the side until he was able to pull out a fancy black top hat that still had its shine.

"We use this room as storage, just for extra costumes or ones we're not using," Freddy explained, rooting through the hanging pieces again until he found a gold one which had a plastic bag attached that contained what appeared to be a set of tall ears almost identical to the set Bonnie wore, complete with the mask of sorts that slipped over the nose of the person using it. It even had golden whiskers painted onto the white plastic. "The door gets stuck, so prop it open if you're going in here. We've had it trap employees inside before, and we've tried getting it looked at, but it still barely opens from the other side."

"How often do you guys even use this room?" Mike asked. Freddy looked a little confused for a second, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to come up with the answer.

They moved on, with Freddy continuing the tour by moving on to change room down the hall. The door was locked but when the key was put into the lock it opened without a sound. Freddy took Jeremy toward the five lockers at the back. He pulled open the only currently unclaimed locker, sighing at the contents and pulling them out into his arms.

"I'm sorry, Jeremy," he muttered, picking up the prosthetic with one hand. He opened his own locker and put it inside. "Chica said she'd clean this out, but she must not have gotten around to it."

"Or she didn't want to?"

"Gold?" Freddy looked over his shoulder at his sister, frowning at her. She was leaning against the doorframe, examining her nails as if uninterested in anything he had to say. She stayed away from them, observing them from the corner of her eye. They looked to each other, each unsure of what to make of her sudden appearance. "I thought you were staying in the office."

"I got bored," she replied, daintily lifting one shoulder. She smirked when her brother groaned, clearly displeased at her interference. He slammed the door of the locker shut, not reacting to her footsteps as she walked behind him, her hands coming to rest on his back. She picked at the threads of his shirt until he stepped out of her reach. She followed him, intent on bothering him. If she wanted to be a pain for the sake of her own entertainment, he'd ignored her since he had actual work to do, and she was getting in his way. He didn't exactly want to be known for his temper by the rest of the staff just because his sister wanted attention and went about getting it in a negative fashion.

He tried to step around her to get back on track, but she stepped in front of him and blocked his way, pouting up at him when he glared at her. He could hear Jeremy starting to snicker at him. Goldie just smiled, the picture of pure innocence, twisting a bit of her hair around a finger and giggling.

"Could you put these clothes in the storage room?" he asked through his teeth. He handed her the bundle. She laughed. "Jeremy, the empty locker is yours. You're expected to wear black to work, keep your uniform in here, you can get an extra pieces in the storage room if you need a replacement for anything. Report any broken parts of your costume to either myself or… Goldie."

"I don't think I ever caught your name, my dear," she said to Jeremy, holding a hand out to him. "I'm Goldie Fazbear, the other half of the one in charge here at Freddy's. And you are?"

"Jeremy Fitzgerald."

"Ah! The new man to join the ranks of the entertainers. What's your character?" she glanced in Freddy's direction, as she doubted whether or not Jeremy would be able to provide her with the information. She had known Freddy was doing something fairly important, as he'd woken her up early and forced her to choke down some some breakfast, but she hadn't been told exactly what it was he was doing when he got there. She didn't care all that much since it was something that had to do with the restaurant, but she would have liked to lend a hand getting Jeremy settled into his role.

"He doesn't have one yet. He's… Jer the bear," Freddy said, waving a hand at his sister. "Characters were always Mangle's job…"

"Margaret's," Mike corrected without thinking. The others blinked at him owlishly, and he blushed, immediately trying to brush off what he'd said. "Mangle's an awful nickname."

Goldie giggled. "It's just because-"

"Enough," Freddy broke in firmly. "As I was saying, before I was interrupted, your responsibilities are different as an entertainer. You'll still be expected to wait the tables respectfully and promptly, but I suggest managing your time to effectively tend to as many families as possible."

"Customers complain when entertainers aren't working the tables if we aren't on stage singing for their entertainment," Goldie added seriously, leaning against her brother. "If you think whiney children are bad because they're being served beside someone who isn't an entertainer, try being one then getting yelled at because you're caught standing around."

Jeremy gulped, rubbing at his arm nervously.

"For now, you'll join us on stage and you'll be given a few basic lines until we develop a routine unique for your character. We don't expect you to know any of the songs yet, but you'll need to learn them as soon as possible. If you want to have a solo at any point, we'll discuss it, but for now you'll be another back up singer with Chica."

"It's just the jacket and hat, right?" he asked, lifting the top hat. Freddy shook his head.

"You've got ears too," Mike said. He pointed to Freddy's own hat which had the fuzzy brown ears peeking out through his hair. Goldie joined in.

"And the bowtie!"

"Be at work early so you can get into costume," Freddy continued. "We need you to help get the dining room ready before opening, and potentially you'll be required to stay late on occasion depending on how busy we were throughout the day."

"That's a lot more than we've got to do," Mike pointed out. "How much more do you guys make?"

"Just a few dollars, it's not a lot," Goldie answered. "But every bit counts, doesn't it? We just employ a lot of staff to deal with all the tables, and we all make tips anyway. Freddy's trying to adjust it so we're making more, but he hasn't been able to yet, and it'll make the whole situation with the servers worse. They already hate us."

Freddy put his hand on her back and started to guide her toward the door, motioning for the men to follow them. He took them into the dining area to help Jeremy get acquainted with his roles there. He helped him up onto the stage, moving aside a bunch of wires with the tip of his classy shoes. Jeremy still managed to almost tripped on the top step, his foot catching the edge of the step wrong, but he caught himself with the help of Goldie.

They went to the center of the stage, Freddy grabbing the microphone and carefully handing it over, and the trembling Jeremy went through the basic tests. The speakers squealed as his shaky voice filled the room and it was Goldie who clapped him on the back and whispered, "Take a deep breath. When you're in front of them, the lights will be on so bright that you can hardly see the people in the audience. They'll feed off your energy, so if you're uncomfortable and scared, they'll _feel_ that and react to it. If you're happy, they'll go along with it. Focus on the rest of the entertainers, and we'll feed you lines if you forget, or we'll redirect naughty little kids. You're not on your own, so relax."

Jeremy smiled and took her advice to heart, taking a deep breath to steady his sweaty hands. He was given his lines to practice and ran through them quickly, watching Goldie who had gone to stand in the center of the room. She clapped and cheered for him when he got through them successfully.

"So, Fred, you think he's a good fit?" she asked, sitting at one of the tables. They looked to the head entertainer. He went down the stairs and joined her, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

"I think he'll do fine. I take it you'd like to work with him to develop his character?"

"Until I have to go on 'leave.' I'd love to."


	23. Gets

Words: 2529  
Written: April 4-16..., 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Fritz, Jeremy, Goldie, Mangle, Chica, Foxy, Freddy, Bonnie, Mr. Fazbear, ?  
Warnings: _Humanized._  
AN: I'll avoid such a gap in the future, but updating will probably be a little shaky for a bit... My home situation is changing, and shortly I'll be without a computer. A friend of mine is trying to help with the lack of a computer bit for posting, something I need to thank her forever for because this is extremely important to me. I love this story and all of your reviews, and of course anyone at all who is reading this because you guys matter to me too, and I want to see this come to its proper end instead of getting stuck in limbo because I don't finish. Anyway, to avoid getting this to stretch on forever, the important part is: _I'll be updating as much as I can, even if it isn't daily for a while, and thank you to everyone reading this. I care about you all, my friends. Enjoy._

* * *

"Then it's settled, if you need anything Jeremy, you can ask my sister. Mike, are you sure you still want to stay a server? We'd make room for you, if you want to join us," Freddy said. He looked to the young man, clasping his hands by his back. The brunet just shook his head, offering a little apologetic smile.

"I said no to Foxy once and upset him, I'm not going to accept this time either, sorry Freddy. Jeremy'll do great. You don't need me getting up on stage again," he responded gently to avoid hurting his feelings. Freddy just nodded, knowing and understanding his reasoning. They had enough entertainers anyway, and finally one of them had come from the servers they had instead of straight from an outside source or from their little group of friends.

Mike had started toward the kitchen to hang up his coat, only to stop when the front door was thrown open so violently it swung on its hinges until it slammed against the wall, nearly breaking it. With it came a raised voice chattering away about something they couldn't quite make out. They congregated in the middle of the room, too curious to mind their own business, watching as an upset Chica came storming inside, her phone up to her ear.

"-I want you to go to sleep. No, I know you're not happy about this, yes I get it, but you need to _rest_," she was in the middle of saying. She paused, listening to the person on the other end of the line, wincing at one point in sympathy. She sighed heavily before continuing. "No one expects that of you, so please, go relax for a little while then get some actual sleep. Sweetheart, breathe. It'll be fine. I'll see you tonight. Alright, thanks. Sweet dreams."

She glared at them all as she turned off her phone, though she didn't bother calling them out on it. She tucked it away in a small black purse she had slung over her shoulder. She never carried one on her normally, so it was strange to see her with one.

"Freddy, I'm leaving a few hours early. And I'm keeping my phone on me today, just in case. I know it's against store policy, but this time, I don't really care," she stated. Behind her, Bonnie slunk in, coming to stand beside her. He wrapped an arm around his love's shoulders to try to calm her down a little, for she still looked tense. Freddy and Goldie looked to each other in worry.

"Alright, but what's going on? Has something happened?" Freddy asked carefully, keeping an eye on his friends. Chica's shoulders seemed to sag a little, and she pressed her side into Bonnie's.

"Mangle can hardly breathe. She's caught something nasty, and now Foxy's a nervous wreck. Someone needs to go make sure he's actually taking care of himself and to watch her while he's at work. I've volunteered, so I'm going over early to try to put him at ease."

"How is she?" Freddy asked immediately. It was Bonnie who spoke up to answer the question to allow his fiancee to settle back down.

"She's well enough to convince Fox to call us for help. She just… didn't sound too good to me. Chica's gonna take her to the afterhours clinic once Foxy's at work to get her some medication. We're gonna take care of her, she'll be fine."

Goldie took out her wallet and withdrew a few bills, handing them over to a rather stunned Chica with only a brief statement that it was to be used for whatever medicine Mangle needed to recover. She then left to return to her safe haven in the office to think.

Bonnie led his wife-to-be out of the dining area, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly and speaking to her in a whisper. He gave them a look over his shoulder as he guided her away, still the picture of worry. They entered the change room together, at which point the others started to move around once more.

Freddy sat down at the head of one of the long tables near the stage, taking out his keys to run a thumb over the sharp teeth. He pressed on it until it left white indents in his skin. He was tempted to just leave, to pay them a visit himself to check on her. The only things keeping him back were that there would be no one truly in charge at the restaurant, Goldie hardly counted since she didn't like the place and she couldn't leave the office without the scent of pizza sending her running for a bucket, and he'd always given Foxy trouble for leaving the moment something happened at home. Besides, she wasn't alone and later Chica would be there too just in case something went wrong. He could leave right after work if he wanted to check in on her, or give her a call at the end of the day.

His eyes moved to Mike who had started talking with Jeremy and figured the server would want to go see Foxy at the very least, and it would give him an excuse to go see Mangle. He stood, drawing the attention of the two other men.

"Mike, do you want a ride tonight?"

The man seemed a little shocked as he answered, "You don't have to, I'll probably go see if Fox or Margaret need anything."

"That's why I was offering. I'll drive you right after our shifts, and I'll drive you home when we're finished there. Gold can take care of getting home herself," he said. He made his way toward the back to get some work done before he had to be on stage to perform his first skit of the day.

The servers opened the doors as the entertainers finished their last preparations. The morning tables, many of them from schools nearby that crane craved an excuse to get away from the rut that was class life, were fairly well behaved and were more interested in actively taking part in the singing than terrorizing the staff.

But as the day dragged on, patience dwindled. The older the group of kids were, the louder they got and the more rowdy. They pulled at the entertainers, nearly tearing away at the costumes for a bit of a souvenir. The servers, Mike included, struggled to keep them from damaging the restaurant's property in their sudden bursts of energy they experienced. They barely listened to their teachers or parents, and when the entertainers tried to step in they focused on ridiculing the workers until they were dragged out by the people that brought them.

Freddy kept Jeremy on the stage or working the easier tables while he and Bonnie took on the painfully difficult ones. They stepped in when a server was struggling, something Mike had never noticed them do before but as he dwelled on it he realized he could in fact remember different times they had done it in the past, taking over when the table was misbehaving or the orders were hard. Chica spent her time working in the kitchen to help the cooks get the meals out faster to try to get the guests to leave sooner, and when she did poke her head out to lend a hand it was also to help with the misbehaving groups instead of the polite ones.

At around four in the afternoon, they were starting to carefully ask some of the groups to leave and were being a little more selective about the customers they let in right away. They were about to turn away one man when Mike spotted him, heading over immediately to see what it was he wanted.

"Looks like you're almost understaffed," the man said casually as the rest of the servers moved on to deal with other customers since Mike was there to handle it.

"Almost is the right word. I didn't expect to see you again," Mike said to the man. He expected the smile that he was given, all teeth and reddened gum.

"I've heard the fox performer is gone?" he asked casually. The server didn't answer, picking up a menu and guiding him further into the restaurant. Mike got him settled at a table near the door since there was something off putting about the man, and he didn't want to bother the other customers and get complaints as a result. He figured that Freddy wasn't going to go easy on him just because they were friends if he was costing them money through lost customers. He didn't want to test this theory and end up losing hours or part of his pay.

He left to get the coffee, momentarily getting distracted by the comedic skit that the three bears of the restaurant were in the middle of up on the main stage. Jeremy seemed to be stumbling through his lines, due to nerves no doubt, and often Freddy had to gently feed him his line or give the cue a second or third time. Mike smiled a little to himself, feeling kind of bad for the newest entertainer. He hated seeing his friend struggle so badly, but there wasn't much he could do to help.

He headed into the bustling kitchen, stepping around a couple of arguing cooks nearly blocking the door. A young woman was scrubbing out a pot rigorously, her light voice almost lost in the noise surrounding her, the notes of whatever song it was she was singing to herself floating away from her like bubbles that the harshness of the booking room seemed to want to pop. He walked past her, noting the way her stomach, round and hard, pressed into the edge of the stainless steel sink.

Someone called her name and she turned, at which point she noticed Mike standing there. She flashed a white smile, reaching for a towel to dry her hands off. She answered whoever it was that had called her entirely in French before focusing on Mike.

"You must be getting off work soon," he said dumbly, his eyes flicking down to her protruding belly then back to her eyes. She didn't scold him, instead her hand came up to fondly caress the round mass.

"Yes, I'll be on leave in about a week's time," she replied cheerfully. She moved around him to gather a few of the other pots already piling up to have a turn at being scrubbed. She dumped them into the foamy water, mopping up any that sloshed over the sides. "I don't recognize you, besides your uniform. You don't come by the kitchen often, do you?"

"Oh, Mike!" Chica called suddenly, pulling him from the other women without realizing it. She held onto his arm and almost dragged him to the door to grab her coat on the way out.

"Leaving already?"

"Foxy texted me a few minutes ago. I promised him I'd meet him before he went to work, so I need to get going before I run out of time." She shoved on arm through a sleeve, patting the pocket of the jacket as if searching for something and it reminded him of the pink key he carried in his jacket pocket.

He retrieved his coat and found his keyring, sliding one off it and clutching it in his palm. He grabbed his order booklet and scribbled out a few words along with his address before folding it up into an envelope of sorts to hold the key securely. He returned to her side, holding out the paper for her to take. She did, her expression betraying her curiosity.

"Can you give that to Foxy for me? I can't do much to help but… maybe that'll help him," he said. He shrugged, and rubbed his arm nervously. He went to walk past her, but stopped when she started to speak.

"You're good for him, Mike. You should try taking him out to do something, without his sister or any of us."

"He won't do it. And you're assuming things. I never said-"

"Just think about it, please. I'm not ordering you around, I just want to help. I'll make sure he gets it. I have to go, or he'll end up leaving for work before I even get there! Have a good night, Mike," she said. She left without waiting for his answer, unwilling to hear his arguments.

* * *

She got to Foxy's house after a struggle with the buses, as they came long after she'd given up on waiting or just before she got there so she had no chance of catching it. He was waiting for her by the main door, sitting on a pile of old crumbling bricks and wringing his hands anxiously. He was on his feet in an instant as soon as she arrived.

He led her inside his apartment, walking past a discarded school bag that was practically spilling its contents across the floor while she stopped to pick it up. She zipped it shut and hung it up on the peg set into the wall for it. He hardly even noticed, too distracted by the low squeal of a teapot that was just reaching a boil and the need to pull it off the burner before it woke his sleeping sister.

Chica smiled to herself a little, going about tidying the room as best she could while he was in the kitchen. She put the books back into semi neat piles, though she knew they'd get spread from one end of the room to the other within a matter of days, for both of the siblings that lived there spent practically all their time reading. She gathered Margaret's papers and left them on the coffee table, moving from place to place within the small space to collect the other oddities scattered around the room and put them away where she could. They weren't generally untidy people, but with the hours Foxy worked and the demands for high marks for Mangle, they rarely had the time or energy to tidy their shabby apartment that was hardly even big enough for the two of them.

She heard a clatter in the kitchen and went to investigate, finding Foxy shoving his hand under the running tap to cool down the angry skin. She sighed.

"Have you eaten?"

"What? No, I haven't. When have I had the time? I have to get ready for work."

"Then go," she said, stepping into the kitchen and lowering the heat of the burner. She opened the fridge and peeked inside, unhappy with the unfortunately sparse number of options. She went with eggs, grabbing some spices from the rack beside the fridge and shutting the door. "You get ready, and I'll make something for you to eat. We can't send you to work without some kind of dinner."

He gave her a grateful smile and left her to work, pleased to hear her start humming right away. It was a wonderful change to the hacking coughs that had filled the air throughout the unbearably long day.


	24. Hurt!

Words: 2600  
Written: April 20, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Foxy, Chica, Freddy, Bonnie, Mangle, Goldie, Mr. Fazbear, ?, female cook at Freddy's  
Warnings: _Humanized. Stalking._

* * *

"Oh I have something for you," Chica called from the kitchen as Foxy finished tying up his shoes. He didn't respond, knowing she'd come out into the living room in a minute anyway to finish her end of the conversation, since she was often the type that didn't need a second person to converse with. He wasn't wrong, for not even thirty seconds later she was helping him get his coat on. "Mike asked me to give it to you."

"What is it?"

"He didn't say." She got it from her jacket pocket and handed it over, making her way back to the kitchen to finish cooking. He joined her and took a seat at table. She scraped the eggs off onto a plate, listening to the crackle of the paper as Foxy unfolded it. The key slipped out into his palm and he left it on the table to read the note. He frowned at it a little, and moved the key aside as Chica put the plate in front of him.

He picked up the fork that she slid across the table. He poked at the food, not hungry enough to force himself to eat. He ignored her as she pulled out the chair across from him. WIth his mind so preoccupied, the eggs looked slimey and unappetizing, a mess on his plate that he was going to have to choke down. He could already feel the cold goo sticking to the inner walls of his throat. His stomach twisted uneasily.

His discomfort was noticed, though Chica wasn't going to let him get away without eating at least a little. He most likely wouldn't eat once he got to work, and who knew if he'd eat when he finally got home at the end of his shift. He probably wouldn't unless someone was there to practically force him at gunpoint. He was worse than some of the girls Chica had met throughout the years, at times.

"You're going to need help getting ready for the baby," she said gently to try to get him talking again. Foxy didn't look up from pushing the eggs around his plate, leaving long smears of yellow across the off white surface. He ground his teeth together almost anxiously. He didn't want to have this conversation, but he figured he wasn't going to get out of it, since avoiding it would only make matters worse. And she was going to get upset, for to her it would look like he was trying to cut her out all over again.

"I'll deal with that when it's closer to her due date. Who knows, she could change her mind…"

"She won't, Fox," she said. She stood when he did, but she let him take the plate to the fridge and put it inside. The contents rattled when he shut the door to it with the prosthetic a little harder than he'd meant to. "She can't. You're going to end up being a father as soon as the baby's born. Are you going to be ready?"

"What answer do you want, Chica? I don't want to be a father right now, I'm still being one to Margaret! But I'm not letting that child get stuck in foster care or with parents none of us know. Not when I can give it a chance here with us."

"Even if it guarantees that you're going to be struggling for the rest of your life?"

Foxy shoved past her to grab his keys, ignoring her reaching hands. He shoved his feet into worn out shoes waiting for him on the mat by the doors. He felt her hand come to rest on his back but she didn't get the chance to say or do anything, for there was a creak deeper within the apartment and they both froze to listen. There was a deep rattling cough that made them both wince. She withdrew, allowing him to step around her and go back down the hall to the bedrooms.

He made his way into the dark room, sitting on the edge of Mangle's bed. He twisted the knob on her little pink lamp so he could see her pale, sweaty face. He picked up a glass from the bedside table and offered it to her, holding it steady as she took it from him shakily. He kept her from dumping it on herself as she greedily gulped it down to soothe her throat. When she had had enough, he returned it to its place beside the bed.

"You're leaving?" she asked quietly. She placed a hand on his shoulder and ran a finger down the length of his jacket's collar. She started to cough, each sending her body into spasms, her breath a wheeze between each miserable hack. Spit coated the outside of her mouth. When she was settled again, Foxy took a tissue from the box and wiped her mouth for her gently. She smiled at him gratefully, sinking back into the bed.

He got up off the mattress. He smoothed her hair back from her face, picking up a headband she could use to hold back the almost pink locks. He handed it to her.

"I have work. Chica's here."

"Have a good night…" she mumbled. He leaned over and kissed her forehead as a goodbye. He left the room, said his farewell to Chica, then left for work. As he headed down the hallway toward the main exit to the building, he pulled the keyring open and added Mike's key to the rest he owned. He put his keys back in his pocket along with the note, just in case he needed it.

It was reassuring to know that he had another person on his side, there to support him. He thought about the nature of the note, and the meaning of '_I'm returning the favor. Tell Marg I still have it.'_

Margaret had said something about losing her key, something else he had to pay to replace since she couldn't go without it. He felt the ring of keys and sighed. Obviously she'd lied and hadn't lost it, but had given it to Mike, which was why the server had sent a key with Chica for him. He understood Mangle's motive for handing it over, but she could have just said something instead of lying to him. He would have gotten Mike a key!

But she knew him well enough to know what he wouldn't have, if he was being honest with himself. He never would have been willing to admit he needed help like that. It required too much trust to hand over something so important. Letting him stay for a night here it there was one thing, but giving him a key meant so much more. He didn't know if he was ready to open himself up to that kind of loaded gesture.

The bus pulled up to the stop just outside his apartment and he had to run to catch it before it pulled away. He knew the driver, a heavy set woman with a serious frown. She nodded to him, rubbing her wrist against her mouth while he dug out the change he needed for the fare.

"Running late?" she asked brusquely. The corner of her mouth twitched up when he gave her sheepish smile. She put her meaty hand over the change opening when he tried to pay, handing over his transfer and jerking her head toward the seats. "How's your sister?"

"Sick," he answered, grabbing the seat closest to her so they could finish talking.

"Bad?"

"Her breathing's not sounding good, but I'm hoping it'll pass."

She dropped him off outside his workplace instead of at the bus stop, waving as she went on her merry way. He entered the building, wading through a sea of customers, going back behind the counter to clock in. A couple of the girls working at the counter giggled to themselves, one even winking at him. He grinned at them but otherwise ignored their advances. Normally he would enjoy a chat with them, sometimes even encouraging their flirting, but lately their attempts to get his attention had lost its novelty and he was too tired to bother dealing with them.

He took off his jacket and left it on one of the available chairs, taking out his phone to check it quickly before he had to put it away. There were no messages from Chica but there was one from Freddy.

_'Do you want a ride home in the morning? I'd like to talk to you.'_

He texted back the time for him to come, for he knew that if he didn't Freddy would just do something stupid like hang out around his house in the morning until he got there after work. The response was almost immediate. He shut his phone off without looking at it. He tossed his jacket and phone into his locker with a dull thud.

He joined the girls at the counter. Slowly they filtered out until it was only him and a young woman who spent her time cleaning the back for morning shift. He was wiping down the counter when the bell by the door rang as it swung open. He waited for the footsteps to approach, and when they did the person slid onto one of the stools. He put the cloth down on to take the order only to freeze. The man sitting there chuckled.

"Hello, Foxy. You always give me such a warm welcome. Remember me, do you? I only came to check on you," he practically purred rubbing one finger over the wet surface of the granite near Foxy's hand.

"Why are you following me? I'll call the police."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said calmly. He produced a photograph from a folder tucked with his coat. He held it up so Foxy could see it. The taller man felt his chest tighten. That picture of Mangle couldn't be more than a few hours old. She was wearing that exact pale pink nightgown, he'd helped her into it that morning.

"Leave her alone," Foxy said breathlessly. He tightened his gloved prosthetic around the cloth, desperately in need of an escape. He felt weak, like his knees would give out at any moment. Mangle was everything to him. He would be less than nothing without her.

"I won't touch her, so long as you do as I say. I'm not interested in her. I'm interested in you. If you speak to anyone about this, I will hurt her. If you contact the authorities, I will hurt her. If you try to leave the city, I will hurt her. Do you understand?"

"Who are you?"

"My name is Porfirio, but you can call me Jason, Pharaoh."

"How did you-?"

"It's easy to find these kinds of things out. I know all about you. Your life's history, if you will," he said. He had Foxy under his thumb and his smile showed that he knew just how trapped the poor man was.

Foxy swallowed, eye moving from the stalker's face to the door. He pulled over the stool on his side of the counter to sit across from the other. He picked up the photograph, preferring to look at Mangle's peaceful face than the horrid grin of the man who would send him to an early grave from worry alone. He felt tears building behind his eyes and he struggled to force them back.

"What do you want from me?" he whispered. The man's warm hand came to rest on the thin black glove that covered the prosthetic. His hand was patted mockingly.

"I want your cell phone. You're to expect text messages often."

"My phone's in the back, I don't have it on me. It's against policy."

The man tapped his nails on the countertop and pursed his lips, a sort of glint in his eyes that Foxy could only view as a threat. He got up slowly, to avoid provoking the other man, babbling briefly about going to get it. He dropped the picture back onto the counter, tripping over his own feet as he headed to the back.

He clutched the doorway for support, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try to settle his nerves. He took a shaky step forward, and the movement was enough to catch his coworker's attention. She came over, grabbing his arm to try to support him.

"Pharaoh? What's wrong?" she asked quietly. She pulled him over to a nearby chair, using her foot to drag it close enough to his legs to have him sit down. All he could register was the relief of being out of the line of sight of Jason. He vaguely felt a cool glass being pressed into his hand and himself lifting it to his mouth, but he couldn't stop shaking and so she was forced to hold his hand steady.

He saw her reach for the company phone. His body reacted on instinct alone and a second later his prosthetic hand was around her wrist. She yelped, he must have been holding her too tightly but he couldn't think clearly enough to let go, and he pulled her hand from the phone.

"I'm sorry, Trix, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm alright, I'm not getting enough sleep or something, I must have seen something that scared me. I've taken care of the customer already," he said slowly, trying to keep his words straight. She looked uneasy still, as if she expected him to break down or attack her at any moment, but she let him go. She returned to her work scrubbing down the stations.

He shut the door behind him as he got to the lockers, stopping to take a deep breath. Mangle was fine. No one would hurt her so long as he listened. Jason was most likely working by himself, so as he was in the coffee shop he wasn't out potentially harming his sister. All he had to do for now was hand over his phone and he'd be helping to keep her safe.

He fumbled with the lock for longer than he intended, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, but he managed to get it open and pull out the phone. He started to turn it on, walking back past Trixie without seeing her, returning to the counter and handing it over. Jason took it took it with a grin, one that seemed to hide exasperation and annoyance since he took so long, but he didn't care about what the man thought. He could be annoyed so long as he kept his end of the bargain.

"You're Goldie's friend, aren't you?" Foxy asked, taking up the cloth to busy his hands.

"You could say that," Jason replied. He finished tampering with the device and left it on the table along with the picture of Mangle asleep in her bed along with one of Goldie and Freddy talking in their living room. Foxy looked away. He could already sense the hidden threat. "I don't want to hurt the girls, Pharaoh. Don't make me do it. Have a good night."

Then Jason left. As the bell rang to signal his departure, Foxy took the items off the counter and, when Trixie had turned her back for just a moment, he slipped the two photographs inside the burners of the stove. He wanted no reminders of the lives that now rested on his shoulders. He had never felt more alone.


	25. When at Fazbear's

Words in Chapter: 2318  
Written: April 27, 2015 ish  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Goldie, Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Mangle, Foxy, Mr. Fazbear, cook, Porfirio  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

By the time Freddy got to the little coffee shop on the outskirts of the sprawling city in the early hours of the morning, Foxy was having a nervous breakdown. He paced from one end of the dining room to the other until one of his coworkers, unnerved by the break from his normally pleasant disposition, kicked him out to wait in the parking lot. It didn't stop his pacing, though Trixie did force him to stop and eat a muffin which got him sitting long enough that the shaking in his hand subsided.

He just wanted to get home, to be sure that Mangle was alright and that Jason hadn't touched her. But Freddy had texted him just as he was getting off work to tell him that Goldie wasn't feeling a hundred percent so he was going to be running late. Family came first. Foxy understood, but he really wished the other man would hurry to and get there before he popped a blood vessel worrying.

Trixie caught his hand as went by her again, dragging him down to sit beside her. She kept his hand trapped in her own so he couldn't pull away as she spoke.

"I don't know what happened to get you so worked up, but maybe you should take tonight off so you can rest."

"I can't, I've got bills to pay."

"You're lucky I haven't called an ambulance on you yet. You've been like this since your shift started."

"That's an exaggeration," he muttered. They got to their feet as a sleek black car pulled in. Foxy sighed in relief, grabbing the passenger side door before it had even come to a complete stop. "I'll see you tonight, Trix."

Freddy didn't speak at first after the door slammed shut, having seen Foxy's distressed expression, but he couldn't keep his silence for long. He wanted to ask questions, but with the way Foxy was acting he would probably get his head torn from his shoulder if he tried right away. He turned on the radio to fill the quiet while he waited for the redhead to collect his thoughts. He could see the other man's nails leaving long marks in the fabric of his pants.

"Rough night?" he asked. Foxy glanced over and sighed.

"You could say that. Where's Gold?"

"I left her at home. Bonnie's picking her up since I had to leave early to get you. You always end up working as far from any of us as you can get."

"I take what comes up," Foxy hissed, digging his nails into his knees. He could feel Freddy's glare, but after Jason's visit last night, having his friend mad at him was the least of his worries. "I need the work."

"I'm not going to try to fight with you, but you do know you can turn to us for help, Fox," Freddy shifted gears, drowning out Foxy's angry scoff. He caught the tail end of some off handed comment the man made but dismissed it. He wasn't giving in to Foxy's desire to vent by fighting. He wasn't feeding the unhealthy method of destressing. They fought too much already, he wasn't going to make that worse. "Talk to me. Is there anything you or Margaret need?"

"Nothing at all."

"How long has she been feeling unwell?"

"Stop, Freddy. I don't want to talk about her."

"I was only-"

"Stop!" Foxy shrieked. The car came to a halt outside the apartment he called home. He tore open the door, climbing out immediately. He froze when he saw the others gathered around Bonnie's rattly old car, clearly having just gotten there themselves. They were watching him, each of them, and he felt his face flush.

He knew why they were there, he didn't see Chica with them so he must have been right in thinking they were on their way in, so he kept quiet and simply went inside. He could hear them asking Freddy what was wrong. They followed him in, hanging back as he forced his apartment door open. The key didn't turn at first, stuck as the lock refused to move enough for him to get the door open. It took him twisting the key futilely a few more times then ramming his shoulder into the solid wood to get it to cooperate.

His name was called. They caught him wincing as he turned toward the woman standing at the end of the hall. She glanced past him to the others but didn't comment on their presence.

"Mr. Harrison, you know I don't want to have to do this," she said slowly, deliberately, as if speaking to a young child instead of a grown man. He winced again, raking a hand through his hair.

"I meant to talk to you about that."

"Your rent is past due, Mr. Harrison. If I don't get it from you by the end of the week I'll have no choice," she warned. His shoulder slumped. He nodded.

"I'll have it for you," he said. She continued on her way, leaving those in the hall in a tense silence.

It was Foxy who broke it by turning back and heading inside his apartment. A moment later they heard a faint conversation occur between him and Chica, then his retreating footsteps were followed by the slamming of his bedroom door.

Chica joined them at the door, already dressed in her coat and the fluffy yellow dress she wore for work. She regarded them solemnly, her eyes tired. The night had been long and it wore away at her, visible in every line of her face. Her eyes flicked back toward the apartment in a silent question, to which she only received a half hearted shrug from Freddy. She ignored him.

Her eyes found Mike's; she tilted her head just a little toward the open door, and from that action alone he knew what she wanted. She stepped aside to make room for him, and he went inside and down the short hall to the door at the end. It had a couple posters scattered on the outside, ones that were fading with age. Most were ones he'd never seen before, drawings of old ships and their pirate crews that looked as though they were done in watercolour; the signature on those were all the same. He didn't recognize the artist's writing either, but they were impressive and seemed to have all been done by the same person.

There was one that didn't quite fit with the theme of the rest, a small one that was nestled almost in the center of the door with a clear plastic sheet over the artwork to keep it from fading in time. It depicted a vibrant marketplace, the magnificent pyramids visible in the distance. Along the top, not touched by the blues of the sky around it, were the words '_To dear Foxy. Be yourself.'_ The signature was that of all the other works surrounding it, and deep in his heart he could feel just how personal each of these seemingly unimportant pictures must be to Foxy.

He tapped lightly on the thin door, listening close to the shuffle of papers, the clatter of what sounded like the prosthetic arm being dumped on the ground, the creak of the bed as Foxy threw himself on it. He waited a while before the other man's voice carried out into the hall.

"I don't want to talk. To anyone."

"It's me. You're upset but I have something to say, so just listen for a second. Call me if you're going to break down or something and I'll come right away, okay? I don't care if means you have to swallow your pride. Just call me, even if it's in the middle of the night."

Mike couldn't see through the door, but if he could have, he would have seen Foxy's head turn toward the door, grateful tears welling in his eyes even as he grimaced at the irony of it. He really wished he could honestly turn to Mike for help, he needed someone to turn to desperately, but he couldn't go to the server, it was much too dangerous. It was safer for everyone if Mike didn't know, as much as Foxy wanted to tell him.

Foxy kept quiet until the departing footsteps were cut off by the click of the lock and the door closing. He sighed and started to get up. His body hurt. His muscles were tense and achy, his head was pounding something fierce, his shorter arm was most likely bleeding from how much it burned, his eyes stung, his stomach hurt. If he wasn't going to get any sleep throughout the day, which he figured he wouldn't be able to after the night he'd had, he might as well take some painkillers and do something somewhat productive. But that required him to actually start moving.

He managed to get his exhausted frame up off the bed. He stopped in the kitchen, grabbing those painkillers he needed, before he moved off into the living room to find the file folder of bills and receipts he kept on one of the higher shelves. Upon retrieving it, he settled on the couch to figure out his finances until, hopefully, it bored him enough to put him to sleep.

He needed to talk to Goldie, wanted to more than anything at the moment, but he couldn't so much as speak to her until she got off work. If Freddy caught her with a phone at work he'd throw a fit. And if Freddy got curious about what was going on, whether it was reading the messages or simply demanding answers until he got them, he'd get dragged into the mess just as far as they were, and if-

He shook his head. He wouldn't call until Goldie was off work. That way there was no chance of involving anyone.

He opened the folder and started reading.

* * *

Goldie made her way through a group of nervous sounding servers, ignoring their whispered words, carefully shoving one out of the way. She could see, over the dark crowd, that Freddy had left the stage and was already starting to head over, but she knew it was a pointless gesture as he was forced to stop every few steps to reassure a family or to order another one of their staff members to get back to work and stop staring. She caught his eye and smiled, both to put him at ease and to tell him to focus on what he was doing, she'd handle it.

She got to the front, the others giving her wary glances as they gave her room, only to find that the cause of all the commotion was two men. Two men she knew.

"What's going on here?" She demanded, hoping her voice wasn't wavering. The server shrugged off her grasp as soon as she'd placed on hand on each of their shoulders to keep them apart. The other man simply watched her, lazily rocking back on his heels to observe her up close. She rarely allowed him to be so close to her anymore.

"This slimey b-"

"Language, Fritz," she hissed through her teeth. He reigned in his temper to avoid getting himself fired but he didn't take his burning eyes off the man.

"He was mistreating one of the other customer's children!" he howled, jabbing one long finger in the taller man's direction. He took as much of a step forward as he could before Goldie stopped him once more. It was then that a few other servers broke from the crowd and each took an arm to pull him back into the safety of being away from the owner's daughter.

She ignored their intrusion in favour of dragging the other half of the initial fight from the restaurant. She took him around back to where they wouldn't be seen, shoving his back against the brick wall.

He grinned at her lopsidedly, all teeth, his eyes half lidded. He grabbed at her waist, letting his hands rest on the curve of her hips so he could play with the elastic band within her pants. His thumbs worked their way beneath the loose layers of white and black shirts to rub at soft skin. Something in his eyes shone.

"You've changed," he purred. "I can feel it. With as much time as we spent together..."

She pulled away, stepped back, and he followed, invading her space. He dared her to move again with his eyes alone. She didn't. Her reaction allowed him to boldly run a hand over the slightly swollen skin, over the beginning of a bump she soon would have trouble hiding from any prying eyes. He removed his hand when hers wrapped firmly around his wrist.

"Get off of me," she ordered. He took a healthy step back, but it didn't erase the smile on his face. "Leave me alone."

"I can't do that. Is this why he's so worried about you? Because you're-"

"Leave!"

Her voice bounced off the brick and rang in their ears, but he still refused to move. He took a black phone from his pocket and dangled it in front of her, just out of her reach.

"I could hurt him, easily, Gold. Remember? I keep tabs on him. Right now he's..." his eyes flicked to the phone as he checked it quickly, as if he had all the time in the world. "...still at home, still awake, just reading. I want him out of the picture, my dear."

"Why should I care?"

"Because," he replied simply. "It's not just him that's standing in my way. I'll have things turn out the way I want them to, just watch me."

"Porfirio, you can't hurt him."

"I can, and I will. It's only a matter of time."


	26. All Guests

Words in chapter: 2296  
Written: April 27 - May 6, 2015  
Current characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Porfirio, Goldie, Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, Mangle, Mr. Fazbear, cook  
Warnings: _Humanized_

* * *

A few days later, a Thursday morning, the staff of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza were called in early for a mandatory meeting. These sorts of gatherings happened often enough, every couple of months or so, so Mike had been to a handle of them, but in his past experiences the entertainers usually weren't present at such events. They got their briefings from Freddy before the servers, as they are often consulted before decisions were made, therefore they rarely attended these sorts of things.

But there they were, sitting together in a clump at the back. The servers gave them a wide berth, Mike would have joined them if Fritz hadn't grabbed his arm and literally dragged him over to sit with the rest of the serving crew. Mike scanned the faces for the little pregnant cook he'd met but was disappointed. She must have already taken her leave, then. He found that he was a little disappointed; she was interesting and he felt her light attitude was a nice change of pace.

"Your attention," Freddy called. His strong voice instantly silenced the chatting employees, and they turned hesitantly curious eyes on their boss. Mike figured the impromptu assembly complete with their entertainers had something to do with Fritz's violent reaction to the customer. He was right.

"It's come to my attention that we need to discuss what's expected of you when there's a problem. You are _never_ to start a brawl with a customer. " Freddy's angry blue eyes found Fritz in the crowd. The server didn't shrink back in fear, as Mike and many of those sitting nearby expected, instead simply giving his boss a sheepish smile. "If a guest is acting out, you correct them respectfully, or you find one of the entertainers. If I catch _any_ of you doing something like this in the future, I will have no choice but fire you on the spot. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a murmur of acknowledgement, as seemingly everyone was afraid to speak up. It didn't satisfy him, the fury still raging behind those cool blue eyes. The servers curled in on themselves, putting as much room between themselves and the boss. Unease shifted through the gathered individuals when another voice cut through the air.

"Why didn't you just fire the gentleman responsible?" Goldie called, undaunted by the look her brother immediately shot in her direction. She waved off the nervous calls for her to stop from her coworkers. "Instead of punishing everyone for one person's actions, why don't you take it directly to Mr. Smith?"

"Gold," Freddy growled warningly. She headed over to him. He didn't give her a chance to say another word, instead grabbing her arm hard enough to make her yelp. He dragged her out into the hall, away from the eyes of those under their employment. He pushed her lightly so her back hit the wall.

"Aggressive, aren't you?" she snapped. "Why are you doing this, Freddy? Because Dad's called to tell us he's coming to dinner? Or because I'm sticking my nose where it doesn't belong? You would never do this to any of them on a good day, so what's eating at you? I'm not letting you treat them like this."

"As if you're better than me, Gold. We wouldn't be in this situation if you didn't-"

"Sleep around?" Her lips pulled up into a sneer as her brother's eyes darted away from her in discomfort. She could see his hand forming a fist at his side and she felt anger building in her veins. "_I'm _the one who has to deal with the effects of that! _You_ aren't pregnant! If you're mad at me, then take it out on me, not on them!"

"What I do with the business is none of your business; you gave up control when you left!"

"Oh, so that's it, is it? You're sore because I left. And when I came back I brought trouble for you. Well, I'm _sorry_ to inconvenience you. Why don't you just make everything better for yourself and kick me out already?"

"I would never do that!"

"You said it yourself, I'm-"

Someone cleared their throat. Freddy stepped away, the anger that lit his eyes starting to fade. His expression promised further conversation later, but he turned to face the source of the interruption. His eyes widened slightly, and his face seemed to soften at the sight of Mike. The server motioned toward the open room and the rest of the employees. Goldie felt her face flush, and she wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed or angry.

Freddy just sighed, already beginning to move toward the others and away from his sister. Mike stepped aside, letting the bigger man pass, then went to Goldie. She wouldn't meet his eyes. He kept his distance as they listened to Freddy's voice carry from one room to the next. It took her a lot longer than her brother to recover from the incident, and when she did, she forced her wounded expression back so she could wear the smirk she was almost known for, even though Mike could see how upset she was.

She went to step toward the doorway to follow her brother but stopped when Mike got a hold of part of her jacket's sleeve. Her mouth opened, insults already rising in her throat to force him to let go, but she paused when she saw the honest concern in Mike's eyes. The corner of her mouth started to pull up.

"Get out of here, kid. Take the day off. I'll make sure Freddy knows and doesn't dock your pay," she said lightly. He frowned at her, to which she responded with an eye roll and a flippant wave toward the back door. "I know I haven't exactly been _kind_ to you, but I have bigger things to worry about. And I want someone to keep an eye on Foxy for me."

"So he doesn't end up hooking up with someone that isn't you?"

Something flashed in her eyes, her mouth tightened and her fingers curled into something close to fists. She turned on her heel to begin moving again, as if she had suddenly had enough of the younger man and wanted nothing to do with him.

"I'm not blind, Mike. He likes you. I've lost him already. But at least if you're with him, he's not out doing something stupid that could get him killed. Keep an eye on him, you never know when you'll lose him."

Mike didn't get a chance to reply before she rejoined the fray and he was alone. He took the opportunity to leave numbly. He slipped out the back door and caught the first bus that came. He shuffled to the back of the bus, already taking out his cell phone. He slid into a seat just as the vehicle started to move. He dialed before he remembered that Foxy slept during the day, and by the time he went to hang up it was too late, for there was a click and Foxy's groggy voice greeted him.

"Hey, Fox, I'm sorry, I forgot-"

"It's fine, Mike. What so you need?"

"I'm on my way to your house."

For a minute, Mike was sure Foxy had hung up on him. There was silence on his end, or at least if the taller man was making any noise he couldn't tell over the noise of the busy bus, and he hadn't replied. He pulled the phone from his ear, checked the screen to find that no, the call hadn't disconnected on him, then returned to his ear just in time to hear Foxy sigh.

"How far are you?"

"I just caught the bus near Freddy's."

"I've got to get dressed, call me back when you get to my building. You can let yourself in."

Foxy hung up. Mike couldn't help but picture the taller man, under the covers, in nothing but his boxers, sleep still clouding his eye. He shook his head to clear away the thoughts.

He almost missed his stop, daydreaming and a crowd of kids hanging out by the back door being the culprits, but managed to get off on time thanks to the sharp snap of someone's bubble gum near his ear and a bit of uncomfortable squeezing. He stepped back to let the bus take off down the street without risking getting hit. He waited until the coast was clear to jog across the road, coming to a stop on the uneven sidewalk outside the building.

The reflection off a beaten down old car drew his eye, and he felt as though someone was watching him. He took a couple steps toward the car, but he stopped when the driver's door opened. He felt a chill race down his spine and didn't stick around to find out why. He took shelter in the long hallway, striding down it until he reached Foxy's door, unlocking it in one swift move. It didn't stick for once; when he pushed on it, it swung open and stopped just before it hit the wall.

He entered after a moment, closing and locking the door behind himself. He found Foxy curled up on the couch, one long leg pulled up to his chest, the other on the floor to leave room. The man didn't acknowledge him, too focused on the bill he was reading to even notice Mike's presence until he was sitting next to him.

It was then that Foxy tore his gaze from the words that had begun to blur from the headache already developing. He managed a smile as he folded up the latest water bill and tossed it onto the coffee table to give Mike his full attention.

"Any idea who's hanging out in their car outside your building? The old silver car?" Mike asked. His companion glanced away, trying to think, but when his golden eye refocused on the shorter man's face there was panic in it. "Foxy, are you alright?"

"I'm... I'm fine," he muttered, getting up carefully to keep from kicking Mike by accident. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"A beer or something if you've got it."

Foxy left, and Mike tried to make himself comfortable on the rickety old couch which made such a goal seemingly impossible. His wandering eyes landed on the folded sheet of paper, and his curiosity started to eat at him. He didn't want to snoop, it wasn't his business. But as he listened to the rattle of the fridge door, he found himself reaching forward to pick it up. He hoped he wouldn't upset Foxy too much if he ended up getting caught, but he couldn't stop himself from opening it and looking at the amount the redhead owed.

The words 'past due' were a stone in his stomach. He thought back to the blood he'd seen on Foxy's arm beneath the prosthetic, and the conversation in the hall with the landlord. There were more draws on the man's income than money he could bring in, that much was obvious to Mike just from the bill in his hands. It was a wonder that Foxy had managed even this long with the limited amount of money he had access to, but he guessed it explained the need for a part time job on top of his full time employment. He was working hard so Mangle didn't have to, Mike knew. But he'd never realized just how hard it had to be just to keep their heads above the water.

He dropped the bill as he heard Foxy return. He grabbed one of the cans the man had tucked in the fold of his arm and cracked it open with a grin.

"Thanks, Fox."

"You can put something on. We don't have cable or satellite, but we've got tons of movies to choose from."

"You pick."

Foxy knelt by the box of movies, Mike stared unashamed at the curve of the man's backside, and dug through the collection until he found what he'd been looking for. He was about to stand and put on the film when Mike spoke up again without thinking first.

"Go out with me."

It dawned on him what he'd just blurted out at the same time the redhead looked over his shoulder at him, an eyebrow quirked in amusement. They looked at each other for a while in silence, the server's face steadily growing more red with every passing second, but neither backed down.

"Do you mean that?" Foxy asked curiously without the judgment the younger man had expected. He'd assumed he would be shot down, or laughed at, or brushed off. He was embarrassed, he hadn't meant to say that at all, but since he was already facing the situation without any preparation, he might as well go forward with it.

"I do. What about next Friday? I'll get the day off so you won't have to miss work that night since you've got bills to pay, and we can do whatever you want, I'll pay for anything we do for the entire day because I don't think you get to do that enough," he was rambling. He was aware of that fact, just like he was aware of the smile that was gracing Foxy's lips and how attractive the older man was and how much he just needed to _stop talking_.

Foxy waited patiently until Mike managed to cut himself off to get up, place the vhs in the machine, go back to the couch and say, "What time?"

"You're... You said yes."

"I did. I haven't done anything like this in a long time, though, so I'm a little rusty."

"You like me?"

"I think I do, Mike."


	27. Should Try

Words in Chapter: 2050  
Written: May 9, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Foxy, Goldie, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, Mr. Fazbear, Mangle, Porfirio, cook  
Warnings: _Humanized.  
_AN: I just want to thank you all, my readers, and the friend who has been helping me post the chapters lately, as I've been unable to. I really want to thank those reviewers and readers who have been following this story since I began it. You all mean so very much to me.

* * *

Mike stood back and watched as Foxy went about collecting the ingredients he'd need to make some kind of meal. He leaned against the doorframe to avoid getting in the way in the small kitchen. They'd been quiet since the last movie had ended and the television had been shut off. He found he didn't mind all that much; Foxy was content to keep quiet, and seemed happier when he wasn't being forced to constantly converse with other people. He smiled a little to himself, as he realized that this was why he found the apartment colder without Foxy in it: he missed the guy's presence when he was away.

He went to help when a turnip bounced off the counter and rolled across the room to his feet. He picked it up, tossing it up and catching it before sliding over to Foxy's side, bumping his hip against the taller man's.

"Dropped something, didn't you?" he teased, giving it a little push so it rolled across the cutting board to Foxy's hand. He earned a playfully scolding glare for his time. He took the knife and started cutting up the vegetables, freely Foxy to step away since he was more likely to cut himself than Mike was and they knew it.

"I should check on Marg and see how she's doing," the redhead said. He was halfway through the door when his attention was called back.

"You know most of the staff, don't you?"

"I do. Need someone's name?"

"There's this girl, she works in the kitchen."

"I'll need more than that," Foxy responded. He faced Mike properly again, his arms crossed. "They have a couple girls working there, and a lot of them work in the kitchen."

"A blonde. She's pretty young, speaks French. Pregnant."

Foxy glanced up toward the ceiling, sighing, as he tried to recall the young woman's name. He could picture her quite clearly, a petite thing nestled against her boyfriend's side, blue eyes crinkling at the edges as she laughed. He could remember speaking with her even, her light voice raised in her excitement as she told him about the baby. But for the life of him he couldn't recall the young girl's name, just little snippets of conversations with her or her boyfriend.

"Hey Marg?" he yelled, making Mike pause in his steady chopping of vegetables. They waited a minute until she responded in a tired voice, and Foxy jogged down the hall to keep her from having to shout. "What's your friend's name? The one that we got a job for at Freddy's? It's not Charlotte, is it?"

"Charlotte is your friend. Her name is Chelsea. Why?"

"I couldn't remember. Mike asked." Foxy stepped in and flicked on the light, and she had to shield her eyes to protect them from the light. He sat at the foot of her bed, leaning over her legs to check her temperature with his hand. Her forehead was cooler than the last time he'd checked and he smiled.

She pushed away his hand, drawing the blanket up further as if trying to force him off, but he stayed put and she settled for just staring at him. She glanced toward the door and lowered her voice in case Mike was near the door.

"You should have spent the day sleeping, Fox."

Foxy sighed. "Mike woke me up. I was going to try to sleep. And you shouldn't be worrying about me, I'm healthy. How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling better. You need to take care of yourself too. I don't want you to collapse or something because you pushed yourself too hard."

"I won't."

"Is Mike staying?"

Foxy shrugged. He stood, grabbed the empty glass on her side table, and went to refill it for her to get away from the look in her eyes. She could worry all she wanted, since he knew she could see the signs of the stress he was under, but he wasn't going to let her stop him in her concern. She meant well, but he knew she needed to stay out of the mess his life was slowly but surely becoming, and he could handle it well enough on his own.

He filled the glass and returned it for her before joining Mike in the kitchen. The younger man looked up with a smile, motioning to the stew he'd gotten started on the stove. The water was beginning to bubble, and the scent coming from it was delectable already. Another thing of chopped carrots was dumped into the water and the cutting board was put in the sink.

"How is she?" Mike asked, picking up the towel to wipe down the counter to save Foxy the trouble.

"She's fine. I need to get ready for work, I'll walk you out."

Mike followed Foxy out of the building after a quick goodbye and a thanks for the little cook's name, blinking spots from his vision when they stepped out into the bright sunlight from the dark hall. He didn't think anything of the little car that was making its way down the street as he stepped up to the bus stop, his mouth opening to say farewell to Foxy, his body halfway facing the taller man.

He hardly had time to react when the car suddenly veered off toward him and Foxy's hand was on his shoulder dragging him back. There was a metallic crunch, one that jolted fear through Mike's entire body as he remember his nightmares, as the car's fender connected with the pole the bus sign was fastened to. With a peel of tires, the car shot off down the street and around the corner, leaving the two startled but unharmed men in its wake.

Mike clung to Foxy's arm, his nails digging into exposed skin, his eyes darting from one end of the street to the other, expecting another car to jump out at them at any second. He waited for his racing heart to calm down once more before he looked up at his companion.

"Does that… normally happen to you?" he asked lightly, trying to brush off any lingering fear. Foxy's answering smile was just as weak.

"Not to me, no. I think you should stay away from here for a couple days. I'm not cancelling on you, I just… think it would be a little safer. I don't think that was an accident. Where do you want me to meet you on Friday, and when?"

"Ignoring your advice, I'll meet you here at noon. One car isn't going to scare me away. Take care, Fox, and call me if you need anything," Mike said. He climbed onto the bus when it a hissing stop, moving to the back while keeping an eye on Foxy through the filthy windows. He dropped into the seat in the back just as Foxy pulled out his cell phone to answer it. With a grumble, the bus pulled away from the curb and his view of his maybe-one-day boyfriend was cut off.

* * *

When Mike got to work the next day, he was giddy. He couldn't help but try to picture the reactions of the others. He hoped they'd be happy for him, but even if they weren't he didn't care. He'd gotten up the nerve to ask Foxy out, and he'd gotten a yes!

He headed straight to the change room to find only Bonnie and Chica there. He stood back to watch the young woman try to help her fiancé get the headband of his ears untangled, as it had gotten caught in his hair. She saw Mike standing there in the doorway and waved, but she continued to work the purple plastic free of the knots. Bonnie kept one hand up to keep the flopping ears from hitting him in the face.

"You're in a good mood," Chica observed pleasantly, looking in Mike's direction to give him a wink.

"Where's Freddy?" He asked, sitting on the bench across from them. He raised on foot so it rested on the edge of the bench and he leaned an elbow on his knee.

"He's in the office with Gold," Bonnie replied. "Apparently they got into some kinda fight or something last night and still haven't made up, so they're trying to work it out now instead of letting it simmer and come to a boil in front of the entire company again."

"Bailey, be nice," Chica said. She reached for a pair of scissors to get at a fierce knot that just wouldn't let go of the costume piece. She gave her boyfriend a sharp look, making him smile apologetically. He grabbed her wrist when she went to cut at his hair, dragging her down to his level. He smiled at her adoringly, kissing her sweetly. She dragged it out as much as she could, her free hand coming up to rest on the side of his neck while he pulled her closer by the waist. They seemed to forget Mike's presence in the room, but he simply averted his eyes to give them privacy.

They only broke apart when Freddy and Goldie entered the room and the man cleared his throat to get their attention. Bonnie just grinned at them lazily, not letting Chica move from her place in his lap. He waved at his boss.

"Should I ask?" Freddy questioned, moving toward his locker. Behind him, his sister laughed.

"Let them have their fun, Frederick. You're just jealous."

He didn't answer, pulling open the locker door and digging out his top hat and jacket. Goldie took the hint when he shut it harder than necessary. She went to her own locker to fetch her costume.

"Hey, Freddy. Do you think I could have next Friday off?," Mike called. The entertainer raised an eyebrow at him, waving for him to continue speaking. "I have a date with Foxy."

The others seemed to stop, each giving him a wide eyed stare. He grinned at them, carefully avoiding Goldie's eyes as he stood and brushed off his clothing to hide his concern at her reaction. It was her turn to surprise him as she was the first to smile at him, though there was a knowingness to the tilt of her lips and a hollow look in her eyes. She strode over to him and clapped him on the shoulder with a nod.

"Congratulations, Mike. I wish you the best," she said, her voice a little too loud, a little too strained, and he could tell this hurt her as much as she knew it was good for her friend. She seemed to force back something like tears as she patted his arm once more then turned to her family and nodded towards Mike. "Aren't you gonna say something? He did the impossible."

It was Chica who moved next, wrapping her arms around Mike with an excited squeal, almost tearing him off his feet. She broke out into happy chatter, her words pouring out so quickly Mike couldn't make heads or tails of it but he got the gist of how delighted she was. Though it wasn't clear if she was happy for him or for Foxy.

She let him go after a moment, launching immediately into a round of questions, thankfully at pace he could keep up with, and Bonnie joined her, wrapping an arm around her slight shoulders. He gave Mike his own encouragement in the form of a couple places he could probably take Foxy out for their date.

While they chatted animatedly about Mike's upcoming date, Gold seemed to withdraw, one hand coming to rest on her stomach. Her brother came up beside her, guiding her to sit down beside him. She clutched his hand, trying to remind herself that she was supposed to be _happy_ that Foxy was giving Mike a chance. She was supposed to be in support of it, cheering them on from the sidelines because she wasn't standing in his way anymore. Because he was finally getting something he actually deserved, and not suffering from her mistakes. But all she could feel was dread, for it was just like the baby; she couldn't keep Foxy for herself. And no one could see just how much her sacrifice was hurting her.


	28. Their Best

Words in Chapter: 4175  
Written: May 10-13, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Porfirio, Mr. Fazbear, Freddy, Goldie, Chica, Bonnie, Mangle, Foxy, Chelsea  
Warnings: Humanized. Mild suggestive content.  
AN: Sorry, my friends, for the delay. If this isn't the chapter you were hoping to see, I apologize, as this is where the characters led. Thank you to all who have stuck with me so far.

* * *

Mike tried not to feel nervous, tried to ignore the butterflies dancing in his stomach and his sweaty palms. He clutched the gift he'd gotten for his date under his elbow, reassuring himself that everything was going to turn out just fine.

He'd spent the morning getting ready; he grabbed a shower, dried his hair and tried to get it to stay in a somewhat presentable state, picked out some dark jeans and a red tee without any stains, paced the hall trying to come up with enough things to say to keep the conversation going. But as the lengthy practice session with the mirror dragged on, he reminded himself that it was just Foxy. Then promptly realized he had no idea what to expect with the man, seeing as the others had only suggested things they had done with Foxy in the past themselves, and that wasn't all that helpful in these circumstances.

He'd left his apartment early in an attempt to dodge most of the traffic, stopping by the flower shop on the way to get a bundle of pink tulips. Just having the bouquet reassured him, for it was something he could hold without worrying about the stains his sweaty hands were probably leaving on things.

He snapped his gum as he finally reached the apartment building, tossing it in the garbage as soon as he stepped through the door. He strolled down the hall, knocking lightly on Foxy's door, stepping back and rocking on his heels until Foxy came to the door.

He held the flowers out and said, "For Mangle."

Foxy laughed, taking the flowers to get a vase for them and some water, and from the depth of the apartment Mike heard the other occupant giggle as well. He stood in the entryway to wait, and waved to Mangle when caught sight of her sitting in the hall. She smiled at him.

"You're early," she teased.

"It's 12:05."

"That's still early." She rolled forward then clasped her hands in lap. Her eyes went to the other thing in his grasp, a delicate eyebrow lifting in question, to which Mike jerked his head toward the kitchen, and for a second they listened to the running water until it shut off and Foxy returned to the room. He set the vase of tulips on the coffee table, moving aside a couple things to make room.

"Here, Fox, this is for you," Mike said, handing over the gift. The tall man seemed a little surprised, but he eased the tape off the brown paper carefully, setting aside what he took off. When he got the thing free he flipped it over in his hands, and Mike got a sharp toothed grin that was more than a little contagious. He was pulled closer by the redhead who leaned down to close the distance. Mike's eyes started to close as his lips nearly brushed against Foxy's.

Only the kiss he expected didn't happen. Mangle prevented it, whether or not it was on purpose was the one thing Mike wasn't sure about though he figured it wasn't an accident, by suddenly calling her brother's name. He pulled back, turning to acknowledge his sister while Mike tried to get his racing heart back under control.

He watched the exchange distantly, barely registering anything beyond the fact that Foxy was happily showing off the book Mike had given him. He felt like he was being submerged in water, with the Harrisons on the dry land he wanted to be on but couldn't get to. He shook his head, and managed to get his mind to focus again on what they were saying as Foxy put down the book and took his arm, long fingers curling around the thinnest part of Mike's arm.

"Let's go. Marg's right, we're running late," Foxy said. The shorter man simply blinked up at him, having missed the earlier conversation and as such having no idea what he was referring to. He got an eye roll and a tug toward the door. He let himself be pulled along, as it gave him time to collect and reorder his thoughts once more.

Foxy pulled him to the bus stop where they waited for about ten minutes for the bus. It was hot and crowded, but Foxy weaved his way through the crowd of standing passengers to get to the open seats in the back, pulling Mike with. They slid into the open two-seater bench, neither minding the way it made them sit hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Unfortunately for Mike, he was sitting to his Foxy's right and the redhead had left his prosthetic at home. He didn't mind all that much, but it made it impossible for him to give into the desire to take the other man's hand. He settled for placing a hand on Foxy's knee.

Their ride was a little shorter than Mike expected, even though he knew the city well enough, but he suspected it was because he was relishing the warmth he could feel through Foxy's good pants. He thought his companion looked cute, his unruly red locks swept back and brushed out to keep them from falling into his eyes. His shirt, a pale almost faded ruby, made his hair seem even more vibrant than it was naturally, and his yellow eyes shine.

His observations had kept him from realizing they were nearing their stop, though Mike had little to no idea where they were going to begin with, until Foxy was insisting that he get up before the bus started moving without letting them off. He was forced to let go of Foxy's knee, and was once more disappointed to be kept on Foxy's right as they headed toward the movie theater.

He glanced at the large posters displaying the movies currently being shown. He dismissed the romantic comedy that most of the people in the lineup for tickets seemed to be excited for, but when he found the poster for the latest thriller he couldn't help but grin. He hadn't noticed that Foxy had been watching him until they reached the desk themselves and the ex-entertainer requested tickets for the very movie Mike had been curious about. He continued to be stunned as he pulled out his wallet and paid for the tickets, and later a big bag of popcorn to share.

He followed Foxy up the stairs in their theater as his date chose the seats, two in the center of an upper row so they could see the whole movie without getting a crick in their necks, Foxy explained. He didn't mind, carrying the popcorn and munching on a couple pieces as they walked. He let his date sit before doing the same, holding the bag so the other man could reach without trouble. He let his hand rest on Foxy's knee.

"So what are we doing after the movie?" He asked, his eyes on the screen as the first few commercials started. He ate a couple more pieces.

"Impatient, aren't you, lad? Not satisfied to simply wait and enjoy the film?" Foxy teased. He set his hand over the one on his knee with a grin, his good eye sparkling. Mike just laughed.

"I don't think I'll be watching much of the movie," he said.

A couple of girls squeezed past them down to grab their own seats, cutting off any response Foxy may have had planned, so he tightened his grip on Mike's hand affectionately. They kept quiet as the lights came down, and the last few commercials ended. Mike started to smile to himself as the movie started, and he hardly noticed when Foxy's hand moved to rest on the arm of the seat.

Mike thoroughly enjoyed the movie, oblivious to when his companion started to jump and gasp at the action within it. Poor Foxy couldn't keep himself from flinching in fear, digging his nails into the armrest. He pulled back further into his seat as the action built to a climax, stress building in his chest and making it hard to breathe through the hand crushing his lungs. The film's antagonist, a man driven crazy by witnessing the death of his pregnant wife, slashed through the flimsy attempts to barricade the door made by the protagonist, a young male college student who had just moved to the neighbourhood. He cornered the kid, knife raised to strike. The look in the bigger man's eyes was one Foxy could have sworn mirrored Porfirio's when he threatened him in that coffee shop.

His knee jerked as the stalker stabbed the student in the chest, thick trails of blood making their way down the pristine white shirt as the boy died. The sudden movement pulled Mike's eyes from the gore on the screen to Foxy's pale, terrified face. He reached up, gently turning the vulpine man's face to get a better look at the wide-eyed look of terror and to get him to stop looking at the screen. He could feel how shallow Foxy's breathing really was, and a stab of guilt hit him in the chest. He leaned over and raised his voice enough to be heard over the dying moans coming from the speakers around them.

"Do you want to leave?"

Foxy shook his head. "It's almost over."

No matter what Mike said after that, Foxy wouldn't respond. He was relieved, at least, that as the movie wound to its grim end, the tall man seemed to recover from the scare. They held hands as the credits started to roll and the chatting teens went back through the row to get out. Mike turned in his seat to get a better look at his companion who offered him more of a smile, already looking a lot better than earlier.

"You didn't like the movie?" Mike asked curiously. He wasn't surprised when his question got an affectionate eye roll coupled with a wider, relaxed smile.

"I would have been fine with a romance movie," Foxy replied. He flicked a piece of popcorn at the shorter man when he snorted.

"You're a dork, Fox."

They left the theater with Mike, once again, on the wrong side and regretting not paying. They strolled through the park nearby, and after a few minutes Foxy was back to normal, a light smile gracing his face as they walked.

They walked down a path that stretched through a crowded park. They stopped a safe distance away to watch, and when Mike glanced up at his date, there was a fond look in those golden eyes he loved so much. He was able to tug on him a few times to get him walking again after a moment.

"Do you have a lot of experience working with kids?" he asked. Foxy shrugged a bit.

"I didn't babysit much as a teenager, most people were smart enough not to ask me to watch their children. Not that I'd hurt them, I was just… aggressive."

"What do you mean?"

"I was a troublemaker, I got into fights all the time, and I was known for it."

They stopped again at a bench and they sat together, Foxy stretching his long legs out in front of himself, pressing his wrist against his scarred eye a little with a sigh. A dog rushed past them after a ball that bounced down the concrete path.

"What changed?" Mike asked to break the silence. He watched something close to wry amusement cross the man's face.

"I lost my friends," Foxy replied. He cast his eye to the clouds. "I'd had them all my life, but after the accident I was struggling and I took it out on them. It was my fault that Goldie ended up leaving to protect Freddy. I was hurting them all, and she stopped it, when I should have been the one to leave. You… you didn't see it, Mike. I was a monster."

Mike's expression softened and he turned his date to hold his face gently. He frowned at the other man, understanding in his blue eyes as tears welled up in gold.

"The past's the past," he said wisely. "You're nothing like that now, and you've made up for what you've done. If my opinion counts, and I think it does to you at least, I think you're perfect the way you are, Pharaoh."

Tears were starting to run down Foxy's cheeks, and a moment later he was pulling Mike into his arms, burying his face in the younger's shoulder. Mike's eyes widened a little, but he didn't push him away, instead holding him until he was calmer, running his hand over the bony back.

They stayed on that bench for a while, until the sky was starting to darken. Mke played with a few strands of the wild red hair Foxy had tried, and failed, to wrestle into being straight and pinned back with a ribbon he'd stolen from Mangle. His attempts to get it under control couldn't keep all of it from misbehaving, and a few long pieces had sprung free and fell near the side of his face.

"So what kinds of movie do you like?" Mike asked, to redirect his attention. "You didn't like that thriller much. Does it have something to do with that car from last Thursday? Is it still hanging around your building?"

"I'll watch just about anything, so long as it's entertaining." He ignored the way the server started to smile at him. "I watch history documentaries. Not something most people would find entertaining. I don't get to watch very many movies."

"History documentaries on pirates?"

"I like more than just pirates," he replied indignantly, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips. He stood up, helping up his date as he did. He started back toward the street, and the bus stop, linking an arm through Mike's. A couple children gossiped when they saw the men, but he just smiled at them. "I'm sure you've got your own favorite topics, lad. Mine just happens to be pirates. But I like history, in general."

"Did you study it while you were in college?"

Foxy shook his head. "Just in high school. I took every course on it I could."

"What about after school activities? What did you like to do?" Mike pressed. He smiled when he got a curious little smile.

"You haven't given me a chance to ask anything about you," Foxy pointed out. Mike shrugged, pulling him to the bus stop to wait there. He let his hands rest on the curve of Foxy's hips, tilting his head back just enough to meet those yellow eyes.

"My life's not interesting. Good parents, I'm an only child, my parents sent me to university, so I'm working to try to pay off my debts without their help. I've had awful luck with the ladies, and the only interesting thing to happen to me besides the number of bike crashes I've been in is the job I got at Freddy's. And I hardly cared about it until… I met you."

Foxy drew him closer, sliding his hand up to his neck to hold him, something softening in his face that made him seem younger. He brought their lips close, making Mike's breath catch in anticipation.

_He dug his nails into her hips, making her groan as her back hit the wall. She licked her lips. her eyes hungry as she pulled him close by his tie, almost devouring his lips in a desperate kiss. She started to undo the buttons of his shirt, careful not to leave marks on his skin as she worked. He was lost in the feeling of her warm hands on the curve of his shoulder and her tongue in his mouth._

Foxy paused, so close to Mike that all he could smell was the shorter man's distinct smell. His heart was racing in his chest, and he part of him knew it wasn't just excitement. He let their noses come to be touching, trying to force himself to breathe.

"_They can't know," he whispered, already starting to force the sparkling strap of her dress down her shoulder to expose more of her flawless skin. His hand trailed down the side of her neck and he leaned in to kiss along it. She tried to bite back a moan, clawing at his hips a little to keep herself quiet._

"_I won't leave marks," she whispered breathily._

"M-Mike…" he whispered, and it was Mike who pulled away, gently turning the man's chin to get him to look at him. "I-I… I'm sorry, I-"

"Foxy, we can take this slowly. At a pace you're comfortable with. I'm fine taking things at your speed."

He pulled Foxy to sit on the bench to wait, and the man rested his head on Mike's shoulder in an appreciative gesture. He let his eyes slip closed until he heard the bus come to a stop. They climbed on, taking their usual seats and sticking to silence until they reached Freddy Fazbear's restaurant. They were directed to a table almost immediately upon entering, and to Mike's surprise they were served by a server, not one of the entertainers.

Their waitress was a girl Mike could remember talking to only once or twice in the past, during his conversations with the many other servers before he'd become friends with the entertainers. She was one strongly opposed to the behaviors of their better paid coworkers, a loud voice in the dim cry for equality in their place of work. She'd seemed to assume that her good looks, for she had all the slight frame women envied, the big, helpless looking chocolate eyes, the tanned skin and light hair, would help her cozy up to the boss himself and get him to remove the importance of the entertainers. He'd heard from Jeremy that she'd tried it once before and was shot down by Freddy.

She'd started to spread rumors about the man, and the worst, if Mike could remember correctly, was about Freddy having a secret affair with one of the female employees who had gotten fired just before Mike was hired on, and she claimed that this affair was why the other girl was fired and why Freddy was so against having a romantic life. While at the time Mike had rolled his eyes at the whole ordeal, it had really gotten to Freddy, another server told him later. The only reason she hadn't gotten fired, so he'd heard, was the interference of the senior Mr. Fazbear.

The close call had lessened her desire to interfere, but she still vocalized her dislike of the system outside the earshot of any of her non-server coworkers. Even so, she greeted both Mike and Foxy with a smile and led them to a table near the middle of the restaurant so they could clearly see the stage.

The lights were dimmed, for the band and Goldie were just getting into position to start their show as Mike and Foxy got seated. The families around them were whispering, eager to see the performance, while Mike wondered what it would be like to see it from their perspective instead of an employee's. He took Foxy's hand, watching Bonnie idly check his guitar as Freddy unhooked his microphone from its stand. Goldie moved to the front of the stage, surveying the crowd with a grin.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's," she called cheerfully. "I'm Gold, the better bear."

From behind her Freddy put in, "There is no better bear, Goldie! We're both great!"

"Sure, if you say so, Freddy," she said with an eye roll and a smile. "So, I was talking with the cooks earlier, and they told me that some food's gone missing. I wonder who took it. Was it you, Chica?"

"Wasn't me!" she chirped lightly, resting one fist on her hip, lifting her cupcake a little higher so the audience got a better look at the little pink iced treat. The googly eyes spun. "I just have this!"

"What about you, Bonnie?"

"Nope! I was busy tuning my guitar!" Bonnie played a riff to prove his point, and so Goldie turned her attention to the last member of their band, who was still busy tinkering with the microphone. He looked up as Goldie stopped to stand beside him.

"What about you, Freddy? It _does_ look like you've been getting into the honey lately," she joked, poking at his stomach playfully. He batted away her hand with an annoyed look he couldn't quite hold.

The four paused when a child, a little boy who was up near the stage to get a better look at the entertainers among a few other young children, piped up from his spot, his voice being picked up by one of the microphones set up for the audience when the kids wanted to sing along.

"You're bigger than he is!"

The four on stage exchanged looks as Goldie's face went red, one hand coming to rest on her belly subconsciously as the others started to laugh. A horrified mother came up to collect the child, but none of the entertainers scolded him for he was so young he didn't know better. Freddy put one large hand on his sister's shoulder, trying not to join his friends in laughing at her expression. She glared up at him, then looked over her shoulder at Chica, covering the small microphone pinned to her jacket so the audience wouldn't catch her words.

"This'll be _you_ one day," she pointed out. Both Bonnie and Chica froze, a blush blossoming in their cheeks as they looked to each other almost shyly. Freddy just smirked. He motioned for Bonnie to start playing a song, and the rabbit entertainer obliged, starting one of the better songs they played during the day, in Mike's opinion.

The server leaned back in his seat as those working wandered through the tables almost lazily, for the customers didn't want to be interrupted when they were listening to the entertainers sing. He smiled when Foxy took his hand. He leaned over to be heard.

"How much of that is scripted?"

"That conversation? None of it. They barely script anything anymore, they usually just come up with it on the spot to keep it interesting," Foxy answered.

"What about Jeremy?"

"They would have given him a script to follow and they'll stick to it to help him get used to it. At least, that's what I think they'll do. Speaking of, where is Jeremy?"

"He texted me this morning and told me one of the other servers was attacked or something, and a key was taken."

"A key...?" Foxy muttered. He pulled his hand back to dig out his phone,checking it for messages and finding none. He left it on the table to avoid making Mike feel like he didn't want to be there. He kept quiet as the band transitioned to their next song, complete with more teasing and jokes from the entertainers on stage.

He let his eye roam the dark room and his heart stop when he caught sight of a long set of ears poking out around a corner. Bonnie was on stage, and there were no other entertainers that wore rabbit ears. He went to get Mike's attention, but he noticed that the young man was distracted by the show and when he looked back to the hall the ears were gone.

He tried to keep his mind off it as the last song wound to its end and the band dismounted the stage. He watched Goldie, catching her gaze over the heads of the other people scattered around the room. She made her way back toward the change room, and he turned back toward his date who had ordered for them during the show at some point.

"That was better than listening to it while working," Mike said. He watched Foxy's mouth twist up into a smile that looked almost uncomfortable. He frowned a little, taking in just how tired the redhead looked, and as much as he wanted to he couldn't just play it off as a trick of the light. "Oh, man, this didn't turn out well, did it? You look like you're miserable, and everything has gone wrong..."

"Mike," Foxy interrupted, resting his hand over Mike's, a more natural smile gracing his face. "I've had fun. And I didn't expect it to be perfect."

His words seemed to reassure the server, for Mike relaxed and he laced his fingers with Foxy's for a moment before releasing him so they could eat as their meals arrived.

It was partway through their meal when Foxy's phone buzzed with a text. He said a quick apology for the rude behavior, saying he needed to check it just in case it was his sister, and checked his phone. He expected Goldie's name to flash on his screen. What he didn't expect were the words.

_'Save me.'_


	29. To Listen

Words in Chapter: 2642  
Written: May 14, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Fritz, Jeremy, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, Goldie, Foxy, Mangle, Mr. Fazbear, Chelsea, Porfirio  
Warnings: _Humanized. Violence. Blood/gore.  
_AN: 100 reviews, thank you so much, I love you all!

* * *

Foxy could feel the blood draining from his face as panic settled heavily in his chest. His eye moved from the phone on the table to Mike's calm face and he shut the screen off, leaving the little black device on the table as he pushed his chair back. Blue eyes looked up, a set of eyebrows lifting in confusion at his behavior. He squeezed Mike's hand for his own comfort and to make sure the server knew he didn't want to do this.

"I'll be right back, Mike, there's something I need to check on. Do me a favor, would you please? Find Freddy and tell him to keep his phone on him. He'll understand what I mean." He leaned over and kissed Mike's messy hair before stepping away from the table and heading through the crowded dining area before Mike could get a word out. The poor young man was left in a state of utter confusion and hurt, but he did as Foxy had asked and managed to grab his waitress' attention and ask her to get Freddy for him.

As he waited, he boredly tapped his nails off the dark wood table, listening to the dulled sound caused by the thin, red and white checkered, plastic table cloth. He found Foxy's cell phone near the edge of the table and picked it up, glancing around nervously as if waiting for someone to step out and scold him for taking it. He turned on the screen, the corner of his mouth pulling up at the cute picture of Mangle hard at work on a watercolor of a pirate ship. But the password lock dragged his mood back down as he didn't know the password to get in and his attempts at it (Margaret and Mangle both didn't work) only resulted in it warning him that if he didn't get it right within a few more tries it wouldn't let him try again for a few minutes.

"Trying to break into that, Mike?" Freddy asked, suddenly standing beside him. He jumped a little, as he hadn't expected the man to be there already, and his face flushed at being caught. He held the phone out and Freddy took it.

"I was curious. Oh, he said to tell you to keep your phone on you," Mike told the entertainer, and the words caused the bigger man to frown. The group of friends had little ways of telling each other secrets without letting those around them what was going on. And if Foxy was using one of those little secrets, as Freddy was sure he was, this could end up going horribly, horribly wrong.

* * *

Foxy walked down the hall toward the bathrooms, trying to blend in with the customers as best he could to avoid arousing suspicion. A server walked past him, and he waited for the man to head into the kitchen. He used the opening to turn toward the change room.

"Gold? Goldie, where are you?" he called quietly, walking down the hall slowly, wary of running into anyone. He wasn't supposed to be back there as the hall was off limits to anyone not part of the staff, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't some kind of practical joke and was in fact very real. He peered into the change room and found that the only thing that was really out of place was the large rack of old costumes that didn't belong there, but it was possible Freddy had moved things around since his forced departure from the restaurant at the owner's demand.

He continued until he came to the end of the hall where the storage room was. The door was open a crack. It was a small detail, one that most people wouldn't notice, but he could remember trying to force that door open from the inside one too many times and being forced to wait for rescue. The rule was that the door was to remain shut at all times during work hours unless necessary just to keep any wandering customer from getting trapped inside.

He pressed the door open the rest of the way slowly, stepping into the dark carefully whilst waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He heard a noise from inside it, the door slammed shut behind him, the room plunged into an inky blackness. Blinded, he stumbled forward a step or two until something was forced into his mouth, cotton catching on his sharp teeth and all he could taste was cloth.

He felt a click against his cheek. He didn't move as a voice growled in his right ear: "Move and I'll shoot."

He kept still, taking in what he could of the room. He could see a person's outline coming into shape, a heaved a mental sigh of relief at seeing that Goldie was so far unharmed, but he couldn't see much beyond that, and his attacker was smart enough to stick to his right.

"F-Foxy, I'm sorry, he took my phone," Goldie whispered. She was holding her stomach defensively, her shoulders hunched to make herself a smaller target. She looked past him to Porfirio, pleading for Foxy's safe release with her eyes alone. Her breath came between choked sobs. She'd made such a mistake, and it hurt to think Foxy was going to lose his life because of her actions. She'd never meant for this to happen.

"So this is the man you chose over me," Porfirio drawled, digging the barrel of his gun further into Foxy's cheek before turning it on Goldie. He smiled at her the way one would smile at a naughty child caught in the act of trying to escape their punishment. His eyes roamed her frame with all the hunger of a hunter within range of its prey.

He pulled Foxy a few steps toward her, keeping the man's one good arm pinned behind his back to prevent an escape and the gun aimed at Goldie's shoulder. He didn't want to kill her, not yet. She could still join him, if she so desired.

"I just wanted you to come back," he continued. "I wanted us to be happy together, but you left me for this… deformed man. And he's rejected you, hasn't he? More worried for his broken baby sister than for you, my dear. I'd _never_ put anyone's safety before yours! But I want you to answer one question I'm sure we're both _dying_ to hear the answer to. Who's baby is it, Goldie?"

She glanced between them, her fingers splayed across the curve of her bump. She looked to Foxy, her eyes terrified and wide, before looking into Porfirio's sharkish gaze as she answered.

"It's yours."

"You're lying, aren't you?" he demanded, his grip on the gun shaking. She raised her free hand in alarm.

"I'm not lying! I-it's yours! I'm too far along for it to be Foxy's, you have to believe me!"

Jason's grip shifted on the gun, and Foxy caught the movement. The moment the man went to fire, Foxy stomped on his foot hard, making the shot go wide and Jason let go of his captive's arm at the unexpected burst of pain. He gave a shout at the table time Goldie squealed, and he took a swing at Foxy's head.

"_Go!_" he yelled through the gag, staggering back and just barely avoiding the hit. Goldie hesitated, torn between wanting to rush to aid her friend and knowing that in her condition she'd be putting them both in more danger. She backed toward the door, her eyes not leaving the grappling men. She turned and ran for the door, hoping and praying this wouldn't be the last time she saw him alive and in one piece.

Porfirio saw her attempt to escape and raised the gun to shoot, only to be stopped when Foxy's shoulder was rather violently introduced to his stomach and he stumbled back. His grip on his gun was loose, and the ex-entertainer managed to wrench the gun from the bulkier man. He glared at the lanky man as the gun was turned on him, his hands raising as if to pacify him.

"Well, you've got it. So what are you going to do, shoot me?" Foxy cocked the gun, and Porfirio smiled. "I've read about you, you know. A kid with a lot of potential, and you've thrown it all away, what with your fighting and later giving up school for your sister. I thought that was all pretty boring until I found out you don't have any kind of criminal record, and I would've thought you'd be the kind to get caught in bar fights. But no! You've cleaned yourself right up, haven't you? With all your issues, you're a good little citizen. Do you want to ruin that by shooting me? That's pretty-"

The shot that rang out made Porfirio jerk back, his face twisted into a grimace of pain. His hand immediately came up to press into the bloody wound, something like pride slipping into his eyes.

"I didn't… think you'd do it," he praised, a smirk curling his lips up. "You've surprised me yet again. Alas, you'll need to do more than that to stop me."

He started to move, a little worried that Foxy would take advantage of his still position and shoot again. Instead, that sharp eye followed his progress as he circled the man. He knew he couldn't draw this out, as much as he wanted to, for Goldie had gotten away and she'd run immediately for her brother and he didn't look forward to a run in with the big man until it was on his own terms.

He stepped forward into Foxy's space, and as he expected the redhead took a step back. He reached out, grabbing the bone thin wrist and forcing it up so he wouldn't end up getting shot again, ramming his knee into Foxy's and nearly sending him to the ground. The gun fell aside. Porfirio went to reach for it but stopped with a grunt when Foxy was able to punch him in the jaw.

"I've had enough of this!" He snapped, grabbing Foxy's throat and slamming him face first into a low shelf. He grinned at the muffled cry as the younger man crumpled to the ground, clutching his nose in pain. He pulled out his pocket knife, flicking it open he stalked toward the downed boy. He stepped on Foxy's leg, a wave of delight crashing over him as he felt something snap and heard the resulting scream of pain.

He knelt by the outstretched legs, clicking his tongue at the tears of pain he could see already starting to make tracks down the sunken cheeks. He was sure the young man was seeing stars, as his face was already starting to turn all the interesting colours of a fresh bruise. But that yellow eye still seemed lucid. He wiped his knife on his own pant leg, watching fear flood that gaze he found so engaging.

"It had to be this way, Pharaoh. You understand, don't you? You had your chance to kill me. Only one of us are getting out of this, and what's this?" He stopped to tilt his head to the side, taking in the slumped form before him. "Oh, you can't walk! What a shame. You put up a good fight."

He tilted Foxy's face up to get a better look at it, a little surprised when the redhead managed to take another swing at him, but he only had to lean back out of range. He shook his head in amusement.

"Still trying, I see. I guess I should have expected it, from you of all people. You really love this place, don't you? Well," he lifted the knife, "It's only fitting that you become a part of it."

Foxy hardly made a sound as fresh pain shot through his stomach. He could feel his life draining from the point of injury, flowing out with the blood beginning to pool beneath him. He couldn't see straight anymore, and faintly he was sure he heard Jason mocking his attempts to survive and the retreating footsteps, but he focused on trying to keep pressure on the wound around the knife. He felt the blood dripping from his nose, and the agony pulsing in time with his heartbeat in his leg and stomach. He let his head fall back against the wall, fighting to keep his eyes open. He had to. For Mike. For Mangle. For the others. His eyes started to close.

* * *

Porfirio slipped out into the hall, his shoulder angrily reminding him of the bullet he'd taken as he moved toward the room he'd seen on his way to the back. He had one last thing to do before he could leave. He pushed the door open, taking off the stupid ears he'd donned to blend in. He fished out his lighter, holding it under the long golden ears until the glittery fabric caught. He tossed it into the rack, grinning as it caught the clothing on fire and with so much fuel it started to spread faster. He turned on his heel and made his way out into the hall as the fire alarm started its shrill cry.

* * *

Goldie pushed past a couple of people, trying to get through the sea of them to where she could see her brother talking to someone at a table.

"Fredrick!" She cried through her sobs which threatened to suffocate her. She watched him turn, trying to find her in the dim room. A few people got the message to move, and she was able to get to her brother, clutching his arms for support while his expression became one of horror at seeing the blood that stained her face and costume, as Porfirio had attacked her with the knife before taking her phone from her.

They didn't get a chance to talk as the fire alarm started to cause panic and they had no choice but go separate ways and try to encourage the innocent customers to leave the building in an orderly fashion. She felt someone take her elbow and gasped a little until she looked up and saw Bonnie's concerned face instead of Jason's leering one. He guided her toward the exit even as she began to stutter through protests. He helped get her through the constant stream of people heading through the door as smoke started to fill the halls. She struggled against Bonnie, but he didn't let go.

When he finally did release her, it was when they were on the grass outside the restaurant where it was safer. She took off the second he let go, and he called her name, running to catch up as she found Mike.

The server had to almost catch her when her knees gave out beneath her. He helped her to sit on the grass, wrapping an arm around her to try to help her stop shaking. The other entertainers gathered around them, Bonnie and Chica sitting together beside Goldie, and she reached out and took the shaking young woman's hand in hers. Jeremy hung back, stepping aside as Freddy joined them and knelt in front of his sister.

"Gold, what's happened?" he asked gently, trying to get her attention away from the burning building she wouldn't look away from. He gently turned her chin toward him, making her watery blue eyes finally shift to his face.

"I-I don't have time to explain, but Pharaoh's still in there!" she said and each of the others exchanged looks of horror. Freddy stood and, with an order for the others to not move, he went to get the attention of one of the firefighters already on the scene.


	30. To The

Words in Chapter: 2557

Written: May 19, 2015

Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Porfirio, Freddy, Foxy, Chica, Bonnie, Goldie, Mr. Fazbear, Mangle, Firefighters (cameos)

Warnings: Humanized. Blood/gore.

* * *

They crunched through the dining area, over shattered dishes that had met their fate in the chaos of the retreating customers. One stopped to move aside a couple fallen chairs to make a better path for them. He cursed under his breath as the restaurant around them seemed to creak and crack under the strain caused by the flames licking the walls. He looked over his at his coworker, motioning toward the long hall where the flames seemed to be the worst.

The other man nodded and headed toward it, carefully sticking to the wall where the fire seemed a little calmer. He found the door they'd been told about and set about opening it. They forced it open after a minute or two, and the younger of the two stepped in first, his eyes wide at the sight.

"Holy…" he muttered, looking back at his companion. "Is he dead?"

"Out of the way, Walker."

He stepped aside to let him pass, watching him approach the body they found slumped there against the wall with a knife imbedded in the stomach. The man's leg didn't look like it was at a healthy angle, and there was so much blood… His stomach twisted in disgust as he stepped closer and was able to see the man's pale face and the dark smear of blood over his nose and the off-white cloth caught between his teeth.

Walker's partner took off his glove to check the man's neck for a pulse, and the moment he touched the surprisingly unmarred skin, the body jerked. Both men jumped back a step as a hazy, disoriented yellow eye opened, swinging around the room erratically before settling on the two men standing there.

"There's your answer."

"Not funny, Lorne…" Walker mumbled. Lorne just smirked weakly and kneeled again in front of the injured man.

"Sir, can you hear me?" His questioned was answered with a wet sounding groan behind the gag. He motioned for Walker to come closer and help him. "My name is Lorne, and this is Walker. We're here to get you out. I want you to stay awake for me, alright? I'm sorry, this is going to hurt but we'll be as careful as we can."

With his partner's help, he picked up the injured man, trying to block out the sounds he made. He held the man close to his chest to keep him as protected as possible, careful not to touch the knife as they moved. He followed Walker out into the hallway, ducking into the dining area as soon as they could, for it was much less dangerous in there than in the source of the fire.

"Is that everyone?" He asked and he heard Walker's affirmative grunt. He looked down at the man he held, happy to see that gold eye still open even though it meant he was watching the destruction going on around them. "We'll get you out as soon as we can."

That made the man nod just a little, his gaze seeming to grow a little less focused, and he could tell he was losing him faster than they were getting out. He purposely jostled him, wincing a little at the groan it got, but it got him a glare and so long as he was alive, that's all that mattered. He jogged to catch up to Walker, forced to stop suddenly when the ceiling above them started to crack, a beam suddenly cutting Lorne off as it crashed to the ground at his feet.

"You alright?" Walker called, hardly able to see through the flames and the dust that had been kicked up from the beam itself.

"We're fine. I'll find another exit. Get out of here."

"But-"

"Now!" he ordered. He heard Walker shuffle briefly before he retreated back to safety. He adjusted his grip on his load, stepping away from the beam to keep him from adding burns to the list of injuries. He was still bleeding, and that wasn't a comforting fact to Lorne, as he didn't want to witness the man's death.

He jogged back toward the Cove, keeping an eye on the state of the old building to avoid getting caught again. He found himself near the back office, without any clear sign of an exit. He ducked into the office, casting only a brief glance at the pictures decorating the walls with passing interest, and back out the other side, careful not to knock any limbs off anything in the office. He sighed in relief upon finding a back exit, jogging outside immediately.

The air was a cool wall when he stepped out of the burning building. He followed the sidewalk to get back to the front where he could hear the lingering guests and all the workers talking and he could just imagine them all staring up at the collapsing building. It was old enough that the fire was taking over it a little faster than Lorne had expected it to. Then again, it had taken them a while to get the person in his arms out of it safely without hurting him further.

One of the other firefighters caught sight of them and shouted for a medic, and a moment later a gurney was brought over and he was able to put the man down on it. He'd lost consciousness at some point, and Lorne knew that didn't bode all that well for him.

"Oh, Foxy!" a voice cried, and he stepped aside as a young blonde raced over, only stopping when the paramedic told her to give him space so he could work. A few others followed suit.

"Thank you," Freddy Fazbear said, looking relieved while most of his friends looked horrified. He shook Lorne's hand firmly. The older man smiled at the entertainer, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm just glad to see everyone safe and sound. I'm just doing my job, sir."

Lorne left to give them space, content with the knowledge he'd done his best, and everyone had been evacuated.

Mike approached Foxy's side, staying out of the paramedic's way as much as he could. He felt numb, the shock overriding everything but the fact that Foxy was there, in front of him, not dead like he'd feared when the fire had first broken out. He'd felt so afraid after it had reminded him all too much of his nightmares, but Chica had practically been glued to his side to make sure he got out safe. He'd wanted, with every fibre of his being, to go back and find him but Chica had said it was too dangerous and that he'd manage to get out on his own. But he didn't.

A wave of guilt hit him hard as he took the bloody hand, lacing their fingers together. Foxy didn't so much as stir. He would have thought the tall man was… if it wasn't for the oxygen mask over his face and the slow rise and fall of his chest. His hand was almost cold in Mike's, wet and cold. The cloth that had been tied around his face had been cut away, but there were still a few threads caught between the sharp teeth. He was too pale, too still, and it honestly scared the other man.

Mike looked up when he felt Freddy clasp his elbow gently to guide him back a step, for the paramedic was ready to move the stretcher. He watched with unseeing eyes as it was loaded into the ambulance with care. He heard Goldie's voice for a moment, he imagined she was probably talking to him but he couldn't tell, and Freddy's voice rumbled from beside him, which felt a little soothing on his raw nerves.

He was taken to Freddy's car by one of the others while Goldie climbed into the ambulance to go with Foxy, and Freddy went to briefly direct the servers on what they could expect in the near future. He was helped into the passenger seat by kind hands with Chica's soothing voice distantly trying to reassure him. He tuned her out, and ignored Bonnie's touch on his shoulder until they finally closed the door to leave him in silence.

He could still see Foxy's face when he'd tried to kiss him. He could see the way something held the redhead back, making him freeze. The image melted away into the blood smeared, unconscious Foxy he'd seen just minutes before that seemed too horrible to be real. He looked down at his hands and saw the blood that had gotten onto his skin when he'd touched his. Oh how he wished that blood was his own, for it would mean Foxy was safe and sound and not in the agonizing pain he was sure to be in now. It felt like it was his fault...

He sat up when the driver side door opened, and Freddy started driving as soon as he was buckled in. He let Mike keep his silence for a couple blocks to let him recover from what he'd seen.

"We thought we were going to lose him in the accident years back," he said, getting Mike's undivided attention. He smiled a little to try to reassure the younger man. "They had trouble getting the two of them out, and it took a while for the first responders to get there. He lost a lot of blood, and he'd hit his head pretty hard. When he finally woke up he was disoriented and acted nothing like the man we knew and loved. But he's resilient, he'll bounce back from this."

"There's a _knife_ in his stomach, Freddy."

"I saw. He's in good hands."

"Where are we even going?" Mike demanded, not wanting to hear what felt like empty comfort. The bigger man sighed, pulling his phone out and handing it over to Mike after unlocking it.

"Call Mangle, put it on speaker and I'll talk to her," Freddy ordered. Mike's eyes fell to the phone, horror growing. He'd forgotten that she was going to have to be told what happened. He suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there, since he knew she was going to cry, and even the idea of seeing that felt like someone had grabbed his heart and crushed it. He worried that she'd blame him for not protecting her brother, but there was nothing he could have done. He hadn't known that Foxy was going to be putting himself in danger. If only he'd seen some kind of sign...

He numbly found her name in the seemingly unending list of contacts, starting the call. She picked up two rings later. He held the phone closer to Freddy in case it didn't pick up his voice easily while it was clutched to his chest, which he doubted with the way the man's voice was typically booming but he didn't want to have to risk speaking to Mangle because he couldn't hear him.

"Marg, it's Fredrick. We're on our way to your house. We... need to talk to you. You're at home, aren't you?" Freddy asked, glancing at the phone as he was forced to slow down at a red light. There was a long silence, making Mike nervously wonder if she'd hung up on them, before she spoke up.

"Yes, I'm at home. The door's open."

"We'll be there in a few minutes."

Mangle hung up, and the sick sense of dread settled over the two men again. Mike felt like he was going to throw up. He could smell the blood on his skin; Freddy seemed to read his mind as he reached over and opened the glove compartment, pulled out a thing of wet wipes and handed it to him. He tore open a packet gratefully, scrubbing at his hands until all he could smell was the strong scent of the cleaner.

They pulled into the building's parking lot a few minutes later, and Mike felt something pinch in his chest. They went in together, and as Mangle had promised the door swung open as soon as Freddy turned the handle. They found her in the kitchen in her usual place, bent over an open sketchbook, a few textbooks scattered around the table. It seemed like the kitchen table was the one place the two siblings had agreed to keep clear.

She didn't look up when they stepped into the apartment though her pencil stilled for a moment before continuing to move across the page. A reference picture of a grand ship was pinned to the corner, its flag half raised. She had a sketch half down, the flag already drawn and most of the massive ship filling the page.

The chair creaked as Freddy sat down beside her, and Mike could see the skin over her knuckles growing white. She continued to work on the drawing, working her pencil down toward the foaming waves displaced by the ship's movements through the sea.

"Marg, there was… an incident at the restaurant…" Freddy began gently. Mangle's eyes narrowed at the page, her lower lip beginning to tremble, her hand beginning to shake a little.

"Where is he, Freddy? Where's Pharaoh?" she asked so quietly Mike barely caught her sweet, sad voice from where he was standing a few steps from. She finally looked up at Freddy, and his heart broke for her. The entertainer gently eased the pencil from her grip before she broke it, then took the long, delicate hand in his own. Her eyes started to water.

"He's alive, but I don't know his condition. Gold's gone with him to the hospital. I… can't say that it looked very good, but he's _breathing."_

When Mangle started crying, it was quiet. Tears started to well in her pained eyes, her hand went to her mouth, she curled her shoulders in. Her sobs came a moment later, the kind of noise that made a person's heart ache in sympathy for her. She cast her gaze toward the floor as Freddy turned her chair using her armrests, standing to pull her into a hug.

She grabbed handfuls of the back of his costume's jacket as he rocked her gently, not speaking as he knew no words could soothe the pain, chase away the pain, no words could fix the suffering. When she pulled away, she sat back just enough to look into her eyes, her hands shifting down to his and she didn't let go.

"No matter what happens, I'll take care of you," Freddy said, his voice thick and catching in his throat. He settled back into his chair, and he held onto the long, delicate hands the way one would a flower they wanted to keep perfect.

Mike, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, cleared his throat to gain their attention and they looked up together. He rubbed his hands on his shirt by his hips.

"Maybe you two should go visit the hospital," he suggested. Freddy stood, Mangle rolled her chair back away from s table, and the entertainer stepped back behind her to guide her chair. He wouldn't look at the two of them. "I'm gonna take the bus home."

He was halfway out the door when he heard Mangle say, "I promise, I'll text you if there's any news


	31. Staff

Words in Chapter: 1900  
Written: May 24, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Porfirio, Freddy, Foxy, Mangle, Bonnie, Chica, Goldie, Mr. Fazbear, Chelsea  
Warnings: _Humanized. Blood/gore._

* * *

_All he could feel was that strap of the chair around his waist that was slowly but surely becoming his permanent, paralyzing prison. He searched the desk for any kind of weapon, scissors would even be great if they cut through the tough leather, but came up empty handed. He swore, deciding to pick up the tablet to set things in motion, as he was helpless anyway, so why not make himself suffer more. _

_The animatronics were turned toward him, their human eyes so familiar it chilled him. Freddy seemed to tilt his head toward the rest of the open room, his eyes drifting off as if he'd seen something but was struggling to tear his gaze from the camera. His mouth fell open and he sluggishly turned his lumbering frame as he began to step off the stage. The other two followed suit, their eyes bright with anxiety. They left the stage together, and Mike knew he was running out of time. _

_He heard a phone ring in the silence, and as he looked around he realized he couldn't see one. The ringing continued as he started to check for where the attacker was. His heart squeezed in his chest as Mangle's voice began to spill out into the room, her words unclear and distorted but he knew it was very much her hurt voice he was listening to. He tried to ignore it as he found the attacker striding toward the office. _

_He twisted to close the doors, but none of the buttons seemed to work, and he felt hysterical laughter bubbling up in his throat. He pulled at the strap frantically, a scream cutting the air like a knife. His head shot up. _

_"G-Gold?" He whispered. A second later the fox was in the office with him, those glowing yellow eyes sliding to him, and he felt his heart stop. He wanted to scream, to warn the fox to get out, to be careful, the man was coming, the attacker had a knife, but his words were choking him. The fox turned toward him, its metal hand coming to rest on his shoulder as if checking to make sure he was okay, but then the doorway was filled by the man that struck feel into his chest. He tried to reach out, to stop the fox, but the animatronic was already stepping in the man's direction._

_It was the man who lashed out first, the knife coming down in an arch, slicing through the tattered costume to hit important mechanisms within the chest cavity. The moment it hit, the gash started to bleed red, and what the blade was stuck in seemed more solid and less like the almost empty torso. The fox's frame seemed to shudder unnaturally. It hit the ground on its knees, and when he glanced toward the man wiping the bloody knife on his pant leg then back to the red back facing him, it wasn't the fox he was he was looking at but Pharaoh. _

_He screamed, reaching for the redhead, but the strap was gone and he was being pulled on by hands of yellow, purple, and brown. He felt himself being dragged back as he watched Foxy bleed out, his pirate costume's white shirt quickly becoming as red as the jacket. He called the man's name, but those holding him, their blocky fingers digging into his arms painfully, refused to stop in their attempts to drag him to safety. _

_The man, still carrying the knife he'd used to cut Foxy open, had disappeared,and smoke began to flood the office. _

_He thrashed in the arms of his friends, inhuman cries pouring from his mouth, as he was pulled from the burning building and he could see the outline of someone in the hazy window. The figure with a top hat put its hand on the glass, and for a split second he thought he saw another shadow behind the first._

The first thing he noticed, besides the complete darkness of the room, was the periodic flash of his phone trying to remind him he had a message. He rolled over to reach it, half tempted to turn it off when he saw Mangle's name come up as the sender but he decided that avoiding her for a couple days was long enough and checked the message.

_'He's asking for you.'_

He sighed to himself, leaving the phone on the bedside table as he sat up. He didn't want to face the situation or to try to cope with seeing Foxy so injured. He'd managed to steer clear of Bonnie and Chica, both of which had started to give him hurt looks, and the rare times either Freddy or Goldie tried to corner him, he managed to use the other sibling as a distraction.

But he hadn't managed to avoid Mangle, for her texts started to build up, all of them begging him to pay her brother a visit, saying that his presence there could probably help speed up the recovery. The very thought of trying to go see him made him feel a little sick. Hospitals made him uncomfortable, and as much as he wanted to go to see how Foxy was doing, he wasn't eager to visit. Everything about the place sent his skin crawling and set his nerves on edge, and he didn't want to go back to a place that held no pleasant memories for him. But if it was for Foxy's sake...

He got up and dressed, glancing toward the clock, heaving a sigh as he read the time. Three A.M. was too early to start the day but he couldn't see himself getting back to sleep any time soon with that nightmare still looping in his head.

He made his way out into his living room, and for once he missed the organized clutter of the Harrison's apartment. His own apartment barely had enough furniture for him alone, and all the empty space just felt lonely. For a second he played with the idea of what it would be like if Foxy lived there with him. He shook his head to get rid of that idea, he needed to focus on making sure Foxy even recovered. He could entertain the idea of what their futures would be like when things settled down. Besides, he didn't even know where he stood with the other man, after what happened.

He spent the next few hours stretched out on his couch, his run down laptop open in his lap so he could read up on the injuries he'd seen in the brief time he'd gotten to see Foxy that day. It didn't look too good, but the researching passed the time and before he knew it, it was late enough that he was able to grab a bus ride.

He tried to keep himself calm, to keep his mind off what he would have to face, but he couldn't quite manage. He played with his phone the whole ride to try to keep himself from thinking, but in the end all he could think about were the messages from Mangle begging him to come.

He was almost trembling by the time he reached the hospital. His hand, palms slick with sweat from wiping his forehead, missed the handle completely. He got it open on his second try, and he wandered in slowly, unable to delay the inevitable. He was led to Foxy's room after a bit of a stumbling conversation with one of the nurses.

When he entered the room, he was surprised to find Goldie beside the hospital bed, a book open in her hands, her voice barely carrying to him in the doorway. She was reading from the pages, but her audience didn't seem to even be awake. Foxy's head was tipped back, his eyes closed, the dark bruising stretching across the bridge of his nose and forehead. Mike's stomach churned.

Goldie looked up after a moment, and her silence made Foxy open his eyes. His face lit up despite the painkillers in his system which seemed to slow him down. His gaze was slightly unfocused and he appeared exhausted and groggy. He reached toward Mike, his scratched palm turned upward. The server inched toward him, glancing at the young woman.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said weakly. She gave him a sort of half smile, closing the book after marking the page. Mike recognized it as the one he'd given Foxy the day of the less than successful date.

"We can pick it up again later. Or maybe you'd like to read for him. I can leave if you want me to," she said, already starting to stand. Mike waved for her to stay as he sat on the edge of the bed. He took the offered hand in both of his own gently. He was relieved at how much warmer than the last time. Foxy was already looking a bit better.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. Foxy laughed a little, his voice as tired as he looked.

"I'm alive."

Mike watched Goldie rub little circles into the curved surface of her belly, unable to tear his eyes from the slow movement of her hand. She glanced up at him but didn't stop. He smiled at her.

"Is it moving yet?" He asked. His honest curiosity seemed to please her, and it got Foxy to look over to her as well. She smiled, looking for all the world like a happy mother-to-be, and not like a woman who would, in a few short months, lose her baby to another person. He wished she could stay that happy, but he doubted that it would happen, as unfortunate as that was.

"Yes, he is. A little, at least. I haven't been feeling very much until recently."

She tossed him the book, and he examined the front of it, aware of Foxy's gaze. For once, he didn't want to be the one pinned under it. He still didn't like how disoriented the man seemed, and he just wanted to get out of the hospital. Goldie at least seemed aware of how he felt, for whenever he glanced at her she'd try to smile and nod at him to try to reassure him. But it wasn't helping him feel all that much better.

To try to relax, he flipped the book open, starting from the top of the page he began to read. He felt Foxy's grip on his hand tighten, and when he looked up the injured man was smiling at him gratefully. He was tugged forward a little, and to his surprise he was encouraged to lean forward until he could feel Foxy's breath on his cheek.

He thought of how the other man had been the one to pull away last time, and he knew it probably had something to do with the woman sitting beside the bed, and wondered if this time Foxy was going to go through with it just because of the brain injury and drugs in his system. Be started to pull back until Foxy's hand came to rest on the back of his neck gently to keep him in place.

"If you're reluctant because of last time... I'm ready this time," Foxy whispered. Mike smiled a little to himself and closed the distance to kiss him. He wasn't disappointed.


	32. To Ensure The

Words in Chapter: 2432  
Written: May 27, 2015  
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Porfirio, Freddy, Foxy, Goldie, Mangle, Bonnie, Chica, Mr. Fazbear, Chelsea  
Warnings: _Humanized_.  
Important AN: Sorry for the not up to par chapter, it had been a long day and the screen of my phone (which I use to write) broke yesterday morning which slowed progress. But that aside, here's what's important: After this is one more chapter, the epilogue. But I'll be posting a one shot that takes place shortly after this chapter in the timeline of the Crippled universe called "Crippled: Allies of an Ally." It's important for if/when I write a sequel to this.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Mike got used to finding Goldie at Foxy's side every time he arrived at the hospital. Without the restaurant pulling at her time, she volunteered to sit and read for their fallen friend, spending hours at a time by his side. She was kind when Mike arrived, often having a cup of coffee waiting for him, leaving when he got there to give the two of them time together.

He was grateful for her, since he still struggled when he stepped into the hospital, feeling a wash of discomfort settling over him every time he passed through the glass doors. But it got a little easier every day, as each time he visited Foxy seemed a little bit better.

Foxy was getting stronger, but his stomach was still causing him trouble when he tried to move, and his head injury still concerned Mike because the scar was a constant reminder of the fact this wasn't the first time he'd hit his head. He was understandably restless, beginning to ask more and more about when he'd be able to be discharged, when he'd be able to go home. He asked a lot about Mike's situation and how he was managing as well as what was going on with the restaurant. They didn't have a lot of information to provide him with, and it seemed to feed into his frustration and irritation. But his mood would lift when Mike showed up, and it made his boyfriend feel great every time he saw that smile.

Mike didn't see the others very often, not for a lack of trying. They visited on a schedule he had yet to figure out. He'd been getting his updates on how they were doing from Goldie and Foxy. He would have thought he'd maybe run into Mangle at least, or Freddy, but more often than not he was told that he'd just missed them. One day he had caught sight of Freddy's car as it was on its way out, but he hadn't managed to grab the driver's attention and when he went in he was told that Freddy had only stopped by for a few minutes to visit briefly while picking up his sister.

He'd gotten a single thankful text message from Mangle, but when he took the time to visit their apartment, no one had been there, and when he let himself in to check he found that the fridge was completely empty and most of the appliances had been unplugged. He'd asked, but Foxy had looked a little confused and said he could kind of remember Freddy mentioning that he was going to take care of Mangle.

He'd given up trying at some point, since the two he did see were fairly constant when it came to letting him know about the last time they'd seen the others and he left it at that. He focused on taking care of Foxy, always bringing a new book every couple of days just in case he'd finished the last one.

It was Friday afternoon when he walked into the little hospital room to find Goldie sitting and reading while Foxy slept. She didn't look up, but she did nod to at least acknowledge him while he put his book down on the dresser. He pulled his usual chair to her side of the bed, and when he settled into it she finally marked her page and leaned back.

"You look rested," she said pleasantly, looking him over with a critical eye. A steaming cup of coffee was on the dresser waiting for him. He smiled at her, once again thankful for her presence.

"Oh I am. No nightmares last night."

"Still suffering from those?"

"I have been practically since I met you guys. I'm gettin' used to them."

"They said they're going to release Foxy from this prison cell by the end of next week if they can get him up on his feet. Just don't tell him, he'll drive himself crazy just thinking about it."

"Is that so?" Mike looked over at the sleeping man, reaching out and resting a hand lightly on the stump of what should have been Foxy's right arm. He watched him shift in his sleep, the familiar mouth opening just enough to expose the sharp teeth hidden just behind the lips. He kept his hand still to keep from waking him, but he couldn't look away.

Ever since the dark bruises had faded to nothing, Foxy had begun to look healthy again, and it had gotten easier for Mike to sit by his side. The first few days after he'd started to visit had been the hardest for him, but he'd refused to let it stop him, especially after he'd noticed how much more lively and responsive Foxy was for him than he was for Goldie. Mangle had been right: being there for Foxy really was helping him recover.

"How's Freddy?"

"He's got Mangle with him, so I bet he's as happy as he could be, current situation with Foxy and the restaurant aside," Goldie replied. He frowned and looked over, and she smirked at his expression. "You didn't know? Freddy's got a crush on your boyfriend's sister. He's had one practically since we were kids."

"I… I had no idea," Mike mumbled. He glanced at Foxy's sleeping face, and he assumed that Foxy was the very reason Mangle and Freddy weren't dating. Freddy probably valued the friendship enough that he didn't want to risk ruining it by asking out the man's little sister. And Mangle likely wanted to keep her brother happy as well, and Mike figured Foxy wouldn't be too happy with the situation if he knew.

"It's why they seem to gravitate to each other, if you'd noticed. I think they would have ended up together if that accident hadn't happened, but… Well, you know how it's turned out so far, don't you?" she continued, waving a hand as if dismissing the topic. But she knew how well the message would stick with him, and if nothing more it would at least get him to talk to Mangle about it. She rose from her seat, stepping past him to head for the door. "Oh, and Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"When he's discharged, which I do believe will be on Friday as they predict, be sure to call me."

* * *

She wasn't wrong. When Friday rolled around, the staff prepared Foxy for discharge. He was anxious to be released, as both Mike and Goldie had expected him to, but when they left the hospital Foxy was struggling to walk and needed Mike to help support him.

He was expected to spend the next few weeks on bed rest at home to give his body a little more time to recover before returning to work, but one look at his face told of how much he hated that idea. But he seemed to tolerate it, knowing that it was either that or the hospital, and he allowed Mike to help him to the car without complaint.

Mike climbed into the passenger seat, digging his nails into the armrest when Goldie peeled out of parking lot. He didn't bother asking where they were going, since there were really only two places he could see them going, and one was a more obvious choice than the other. He spent the ride keeping an eye on Foxy to the point he hardly noticed when they parked in Freddy's driveway.

She went ahead of them, grabbing a bag from the back seat without much of an explanation while Mike and Foxy made their slow way to the backyard where Mike assumed the others were. They were quiet as they reached the backyard, Foxy reached over the fence to unlatch the gate, and they weren't noticed right away. They walked to where the others were sitting together under the shade of the patio's cloth gazebo. Goldie's arrival seemed to distract the four already around the table, for they were only a few short steps from the patio when Chica saw them.

Mike had to let go of his boyfriend's side a second later as Chica raced toward them with a cry of Foxy's real name. She wrapped her arms around him, her face bright with unbridled joy. She made a noise deep within her throat, a joyful sound o ly the happiest souls could make, when Foxy's arm came to rest across the back of her shoulders.

"You're out!" She squealed as she turned those wide violet eyes up on him. His nod made her give another happy squeal. She drew back, knowing his stomach was probably still extremely sensitive after the trauma.

It was Freddy who approached them next, and when Foxy offered him a hand to shake, he pulled the taller man into a light hug that was returned wholeheartedly. With that out of the way, he shook hands with Mike as well to make sure he felt included.

"You've been taking good care of our dear Fox, from what I've heard," Freddy said lightly, a note of pride in his deep voice for the young man before him. A smile stretched his lips when he received an almost shy grin. "I want to thank you for that, Mike. I know we weren't always around, so it was good to know he had someone looking after him."

Mike couldn't help but smile, aware of just how important they were to each other. It felt great to be praised for it, even if his reason for doing it was the more selfish purpose of making sure his boyfriend was alright.

"Your sister deserves thanks too," Mike said. Freddy smiled at her; one corner of her mouth lifted, though she kept her face turned away from them until they joined those at the table.

Foxy limped to the table without much assistance from the others besides Freddy stopping to pull a chair out for him. He sank into it gratefully, arm curled around his torso in pain. He ignored the worry that crept into the eyes of his friends, knowing that frustration was seeping into his own. They were going to drive themselves crazy worrying about him when they didn't need to. He would be fine soon enough. But he was aware of the fact none of them would let him spend any time on his own for they needed to know he would be alright, and that he wouldn't end up accidentally pushing himself too hard which would lead to making his injuries worse. Which meant he would be, yet again, kept from going home.

Eager to redirect his thoughts, he directed his attention to the most surprising of the guests in attendance. He lifted a brow even as his expression became one of a friendly nature. The other man shifted under his stare.

"It's good to see you again, Jeremy my lad. I didn't expect to run into you today."

"I invited him," Goldie put in suddenly, cutting Jeremy's reply off. The others glanced at her in surprise, and she answered the looks with a shrug. She pushed a few of her long locks of golden hair from her eyes as she met Foxy's questioning one. "I'm trying to be... friendly. I thought Jeremy could use one among his performing colleagues. I've been nothing but civil."

They left it alone after that, as Jeremy seemed genuinely pleased by her offer of friendship and Goldie deserved a chance to make friends, as they all did. The man stuck close to her, more interested in her as a conversational partner than the rest for the time being. They chatted away until, approximately an hour later, Mike asked a question that caught the attention of all.

"Freddy, what are you going to do about the restaurant? And the staff? I know you have us working a few shifts at that other restaurant your family owns, but that can't be a permanent solution. You have too many staff members for that."

There was a long pause in which those gathered at the table seemed to collectively hold their breath. Mangle rested a hand on Freddy's to try to reassure him, for they could practically see the tension pouring from his frame. He took the time to think of a proper way to answer without upsetting anyone. When he answered, it was slowly, deliberately, with caution in his tone. He kept his eyes down, away from those of his closest friends.

"I'm not sure I'll be rebuilding it. Yes, it was fairly successful, but the staff hated each other and even you weren't fond of it, Gold. Maybe it should just stay closed. And even if I did reopen it, it would be remembered as the place where many people almost died because the security was inadequate," he paused, looking across the table to the very man they had been in greatest danger of losing. "Would you go back, if the place opened it's doors again, after what you went through?"

"Aye, I would," Foxy replied firmly. "The good outweighs the bad, Freddy. We were making children _happy._ And you loved the place, and everything about it. I think you'd be stupid to let it die because some idiot tried something in the back. No one died."

"We almost lost you..." Bonnie pointed out, raw pain in his voice.

"You didn't, I survived and Jason left with a bullet in his shoulder," Foxy countered.

"You _shot him_?" Mangle asked in disbelief. She gave him a look of horror when he shrugged.

"It was shoot or be shot, Margaret. It was in self defense. I'd do it again if I had to. But I didn't kill him, he got away."

"I think you should reopen it," Jeremy broke in to prevent the argument that was brewing. The others looked at him curiously, interested in his reasoning. "It provided jobs that weren't there before, and it was doing well. I know a lotta people that loved it. And it was personal to you, right? Your friends all worked there, so if you don't rebuild you probably won't be working together again like that. What that man did was unexpected, but we know to keep an eye out for him and the police are after him, so I don't think he'll be troubling you again for a while."

Freddy pondered the words for a minute then called a vote. The result was unanimous. Freddy's would one day open it's doors again to the public. They just had to build it, first.


	33. Safety of Everyone!

Words in Chapter: 3790  
Final Word Count: 74529 Approximately  
Completion Date: June 11, 2015

* * *

His shoulder still held a bone deep ache, forcing him to stop on the corner of the street and pop a painkiller, glaring at anyone whose eyes lingered on him. He was getting tired of being in pain, as it drew attention when he groaned and pressed on the healing wound, and being so reliant on pills to make the agony bearable got tiresome. He just hoped he wasn't the only one being made to suffer.

He melted into the crowd as he drew near to the basement apartment he called home. He was glad he did when he caught sight of the police cruiser parked on the side of the road. Another was in his parking lot, a third near the door. Officers were near his door, and he could see his landlord speaking with one of them as the man opened the door.

So going home wasn't an option, he realized grimly. He followed the people away from his apartment. Oh well, it wasn't the first time he'd left behind a place to live. He'd done it before, and he'd do it again. After all, he still had plans.

* * *

It was beautiful, a stunning scene as the light caught the morning dew and set the world sparkling. The day was already proving to be bright, the sun's rays peeking through the pulled curtain to try to brighten the almost dark room until it was thrown open to greet the day. It swarmed in, making the cozy little bedroom much more welcoming. It lent a soothing sort of warmth in the face of nerves and anxiety.

"Charlotte, come sit," Mangle coaxed gently, patting the edge of the bed audibly. Chica was slow to move from the window, playing with the rough fabric caught in her fist. It was one of the few things of hers still left unpacked, for the rest of her things were already tucked away in boxes or at the house of her husband-to-be.

It was when a hand calm to rest on her shoulder that she faced the rest of the room, tears gathering in her eyes as she looked at the supportive faces of the two women. She wasn't sure what she was feeling as she was embraced by Goldie, her head coming to rest on the taller woman's shoulder. All she felt was an almost alarming sense of calmness.

"I'll be married soon..." she whispered. Her friend's arms tightened around her. Her lips started to twitch up into a smile.

They had waited practically ten months for this day, despite the fact they had been ready oh so long ago to commit wholeheartedly to each other. They had been together throughout high school, throughout university, after, and then they had waited for things to settle down with the others, which had taken about as long as they'd expected. And they'd needed to be aware of Goldie's situation, which had further delayed things.

They'd had plenty of time to get things ready, but once Foxy was discharged from the hospital things had seemed to speed up. Freddy began planning the new restaurant on top of trying to manage his staff. They hadn't been let go, but there were only so many free shifts at his father's restaurant for them, and even with Mangle's help it was a lot of work. They'd seen little of him for a while, or even her for that matter, but as the day loomed near they were too busy with final touches to really mind.

The opposite had happened with Goldie. As time went by, she was less and less busy, and more and more restless. Freddy didn't need her assistance, Foxy kept to himself or was with Mike, and her own body was making it difficult for her to anything that required physical activity. She spent days at a time with Chica, eager to get away from the busy bustle of Freddy's house now that the Harrisons were staying with them.

Well, Mangle was still staying with them for a few more days, at least. Foxy had gone home as soon as he was strong enough to take care of himself. The reason she hadn't joined him was because he'd been hard at work rearranging things in their apartment to make room for new furniture. Apparently, as Chica had heard from Foxy himself, someone in their building had heard that they were going to be bringing home a baby and had donated a crib to them, along with a few other things like a carrier to make things easier for them. But unfortunately their small, small apartment had only so much room and it had been decided that Foxy had just enough free space in his room that if he moved a few thing they could set up the crib in there.

Bonnie had gone over with Mike to help rearrange things a few days after Foxy had first gone home, and they'd gotten most of the work done. That left Mike to take care of things with Foxy while Bonnie returned to his wedding planning. They'd been in some contact with each other, but not enough for either party.

So as soon as Chica and Bonnie had ironed out the details, they reached out to all of their friends and managed to find a time to get them together. They'd gotten everything arranged, and they were able to settle down and enjoy each other's company for a while until Goldie's baby finally arrived a month later.

The infant, a handsome little boy with the eyes of his mother, was perfect. He already had tufts of warm brown hair that enjoyed sticking up in places unless it was caught in a cap to keep it out of the way. But he didn't resemble Foxy whatsoever. The shape of his eyes were wrong, as were the rest of his facial features. He looked nothing like the man she had once claimed was his father, which had been proof enough for the others to accept that the child was in fact Porfirio Jason Violet's son, and not Pharaoh Harrison's.

But as Foxy had promised, as soon as the baby was born, he was adopted. And once again Foxy disappeared off their radar for the next week or so, as his schedule was already the opposite of theirs and he'd finally gotten back to work, and with the baby he was practically dead on his feet during the time he was awake.

The next they'd heard from him was about three days before the actual wedding, and he apologized profusely for being too busy to really be in contact with them. He'd promised them that he'd be there on time, somewhat alive for once instead of completely exhausted, and with the baby in tow. They'd offered to pick him up, Freddy was already driving over with his sister and Mangle so Bonnie could drive over and pick him up, but he'd politely refused as he'd had to take an afternoon shift while a co-worker took his night so it messed up his sleeping schedule so he couldn't wake up early enough for them. His role at the wedding wasn't important anyway, so he'd get there on his own.

So far, everything else had been working fairly flawlessly, which just left Chica and Bonnie to worry about the ceremony, and she was starting to feel nervous. She glanced at the two young women, two of her closest friends, and let herself feel calmed by the fact they would do everything possible to make sure this went off without a hitch.

"Come sit, Charlotte. I'll do your hair," Mangle said, and this time Chica did as she asked and sat with her legs crossed in the centre of the bed so the wheelchair-confined girl could reach. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself as Mangle's long fingers carded through her hair to arrange it and put in the clips to hold her veil in place and keep the little flowers at the top upright. It reminded her of countless sleepovers, and that helped to make her smile.

"So moving to Bonnie's house, are you?" Goldie asked, in the middle of applying mascara to her own lashes while waiting for Mangle to finish. She glanced at them in the mirror, ignoring the warning look she got from the strawberry blonde.

"His house is bigger. And there are more memories that we've had there than here. Besides, his parents saved for years to make sure he had a good home to live in," Chica answered, already starting to fidget again. "I love his house. I don't want to leave this one, but his is better for one day starting a family. It's bigger a-and has a backyard and..."

"It's okay to be nervous," Mangle told her softly, stopping to rest a hand on Chica's shoulder to try to stop her frightened rambling before it started. The response was a wobbling, timid smile. Mangle's gaze softened further, and she rubbed the bride's back. "A lot will be changing. I'd be surprised if you weren't scared. But you're happy, aren't you? You get to spend the rest of your life with the man you love and adore."

"I know, it's just... terrifying and new. What if something goes wrong?"

"Then something goes wrong. And Goldie and I will handle it. Right, Gold?"

"You have nothing to worry about," Goldie said. She picked up a yellow flower clip from the dresser and carefully slipped it into the arrangement of flowers already gracing the blond locks so it pulled her bangs away from her pretty face.

"You look gorgeous, Charlotte! Bailey will the happiest man in the room when he gets to see you," Mangle gushed as Goldie began to put the finishing touches on the soft yellow makeup and dark eyeliner Chica adored so much. Goldie pursed her lips, judging whether or not it looked perfect before deciding it was. She stood, helping Chica to her feet.

They got her dressed fairly quickly, showering her with compliments as they did, and by the time she was ready for the wedding she was smiling brilliantly once more.

Jeremy came to pick them up in his little old car, acting as the perfect gentleman and opening the door of the vehicle to let them slide into the back while he helped Mangle into the passenger seat. Goldie held Chica's hand as they drove, though when Chica happened to glance over she found the older woman watching Jeremy's reflection in the rearview mirror.

* * *

Bonnie was a bundle of nerves. He was beyond a state of panic, his hands turning his nice new tie into knots. He let out a slow breath as he untangled it for the thirtieth time, which was no exaggeration, easing the crumbled thing back into a straight line. He took a moment to try to get his heart to stop beating like a war drum in his chest before trying again only to tighten it so close to his throat he was choking.

Large hands pried his own smaller, shaking ones from the lavender piece of clothing. It was straightened again before being tied neatly so it rested flat against his chest. He looked up into soft blue eyes, smiling sheepishly at the taller man.

"Thanks," he muttered. He was handed his suit's purple jacket and helped into it before he could accidentally tear it or damage it in some way. His red rose boutonnière was pinned into place for him, then he was led to the front door where Freddy's car was waiting.

"We're going to be late if you don't start moving," Freddy said, holding open the door of the house for Bonnie. The groom grumbled and groused as he went on his way out to the car. He pulled open the passenger seat and climbed in, watching Freddy relock and close the front door. He continued to wring his hands as his boss and friend made his way over to the driver's side and got in.

He played with his handkerchief as Freddy drove, keeping his eyes down on the soft, silky material in his hands. He didn't want to look out the window to see how close they were to the church. His glee was tempered by the fear that something would go wrong, that Chica would change her mind and decide there was someone better for her. And he wasn't oblivious to how life changing it would be to spend the rest of his days with her, and while that was in no way a bad thing, it was scary to be suddenly having the woman move in.

"It'll be perfect," he squeaked out, his voice so much higher than he expected it to be when he first opened his mouth. Freddy glanced at him in the mirror, causing the flush that rushed to his face. He ran a hand through his own hair, sweeping the long strands to the side out of his eyes like he usually did, and he frowned at the reflection that looked back at him in the mirror. He lifted the front section, his displeasure growing at the sight of the off-white peeking through at the roots.

"Forgot to re-dye it?" the driver asked knowingly. "It still looks like it's purple, I don't think anyone will notice, Bailey. Don't panic."

He pouted a little, but kept arranging his hair until he was satisfied. He was forced to get out of the car as soon as he was, Freddy had pulled the car into the space just as Bonnie nodded to his reflection. He followed the other man into the church, fussing over how the jacket hung on his shoulders and the buttons, though as soon as they stepped into the wide room he was able to still his hands with a smile.

"It's really happening!" Bonnie cheered in a whisper, drawing a chuckle from Freddy. He clapped once, unable to hold back the grin that showed off his slightly bucked teeth.

He was left alone for a moment, as Freddy went to handle the doors, and anything beyond that started to blur. He didn't know when the guests started arriving, they certainly hadn't invited very many people for it, but from his point of view it seemed like the whole place was full. He scanned the little crowd, finding Mike after some searching.

Mike was greeted by Freddy at the door, and he clasped the big man's great paw of a hand in a shake that made him feel like his bones were jelly. He smiled up at the younger Mr. Fazbear, amused and touched by the way his eyes kind of lit up at seeing him.

"Good to see you, Mike! On time, I see, unlike the day of your interview."

The poor server's face immediately turned red at the teasing and he let out a sound that was certainly not dignified. He crossed his arms with an annoyed huff, though he could hardly see him actually being annoyed with his companion.

"That wasn't my fault!" he protested, to which Freddy chuckled. He rolled his eyes, and pushed on his shoulder. "Any sign of my fox?"

"Not yet, I've been looking for him. Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Downing!" Freddy's shift in attention made Mike turn in curiosity. He sort of recognized them, there was a soft roundness to the woman's face, and the way the man's eyes were set made him think of someone else. But he couldn't place them, not with their brown hair and green or blue eyes. But Freddy seemed to know them as the woman pulled him into a hug that made him stoop a little to be able to reach her.

"Fredrick Fazbear, I hoped we'd run into you here! How is Theodore? I know he took the loss of Sylvia so hard. It's been too long since we've seen you!" the woman rambled, her voice light and airy, and it made her fluffy hair look even bigger as it bounced when she moved. She held Freddy's arm in her little hands, and she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

"My father is fine, Mrs. Downing. As is my sister. Mike, these are Bonnie's parents Joseph and Rachel. This is Mike, a close friend of Foxy," he said. The Downings took in Mike's appearance, making him nervous. The father's eyes were an almost cold blue, but the emotion flittering through them was warm and approving, just like in his wife's dazzling emerald ones. He could see parts of Bonnie in them, but neither had his pinkish red eyes. But the structure of his face was there, the spacing of his eyes, the curve of his bones, even his posture was a mirror of his father's.

He shook Joseph's hand, and was hugged tightly by the tiny woman that was Rachel. He thankfully wasn't expected to continue to converse with them beyond a few of the getting-to-know-you kinds of questions as the Downings were distracted when a few other people came over, and Freddy briefly mentioned the three young people were their other children. One of them didn't look much older than twelve.

He was allowed to leave when he caught sight of Foxy making his way inside, the baby snoozing away in his basket his father carried. Mike came up to him, a grin already curling the edges of his mouth. Foxy's expression brightened from the previously dark brooding set of his jaw.

"I almost thought you weren't coming!" Mike teased. He was handed the plastic handle so Foxy could actually button up his dress jacket and knot his tie. It was strange to see the man dressed up, since he was used to seeing him dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, usually with his beaten up old jacket. But he really did like the way Foxy cleaned up, especially now that his hair was getting long so he tied it back into a ponytail. Usually, he had it cut a little shorter; long enough to fall down to his jaw in its beloved messy, untameable waves, and short enough it was at least manageable and could be tucked under a bandana. Mike secretly adored it when it was longer, but he was happy with whatever Foxy decided to do. It was his hair.

"I was running late. He didn't want to settle down so I could get him dressed," he said, and Mike was amazed once again that the redhead didn't sound upset or frustrated, just a little bit on the tired side. He held his arm out a little as if to ask if it looked alright, and Mike grinned.

They joined the fray together, arms linked together without shame much to Mike's initial surprise, and they found an open pew and claimed it for themselves. Foxy held the baby as they chatted with the other guests, trying to keep the little one quietly entertained so he wouldn't cry. Mike was introduced to Chica's parents the Duckworths, and Bonnie's siblings, and he got to meet Theodore Fazbear properly. They each held Foxy in conversation for as long as he, and their son, would allow. Mr. Fazbear had seemed fairly interested in the baby.

"What's the boy's name?" he asked politely, his great hands folded behind his back as he admired his grandson.

"Phoenix Jason Harrison," Goldie supplied as she stopped beside Mike. She folded her arms over her chest as her father looked at her, a look of displeasure on his face at her deviance from family tradition. She was untouched by his frustration, aware of the fact he just wanted his children to be the best they could be, which meant to him having them follow a certain model. But neither of his children wanted to fit the bill and it was upsetting to him. "The names were my own idea, Father. Pharaoh never would have named his son Phoenix."

"Aye, an' fer good reason," Foxy grunted. He was silenced when Goldie took the baby from him. He followed her back to the pew, as Theodore had led them further into the aisle, and they sat together, just the three adults in the row and Phoenix in his mother's arms.

The room quieted as those at the front of the church readied themselves. Freddy joined a nervous, twitchy Bonnie at the altar. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder to try to reassure him. Everything was going to be fine. Bonnie, fixing his purple hair one last time, found his closest friends and smiled, a sweet look that only grew when he received grins and nods from the three of them. Their confidence was contagious, and as the wedding march began to play, he was able to face the aisle a much calmer individual.

When Chica started her graceful walk toward him, Bonnie swore his heart almost stopped. She was smiling beneath the light veil, her soft blond tied back from her round face under a band of pastel colored flowers. He couldn't help it as his eyes soaked her in, delighting in the way the dress, a perfect tint of yellow instead of a pure white for it fit her love of the color, hugged her chest and wide hips. He thought it suited her, with its heart neckline, the flower pinned to the strap over her left shoulder, the skirt that stopped just below her knees. She looked perfect, especially when she reached him and he could see the pure love in her eyes.

He hardly noticed when her father returned to the congregation after giving his daughter to him, for he couldn't take his eyes off his radiant wife-to-be. He didn't really listen to the minister, they'd practiced the previous night so he'd heard it before, and before he knew it he was speaking then saying 'I do' and they were in each other's arms and they were kissing.

He barely heard when, in the middle of their vows, little Phoenix had had enough and began to wail, and Foxy had gotten up to take the baby out into the hall to give him a bottle. But he noticed, when he and his new wife turned to face their guests that showered them in cheers and applause when and he caught sight of Foxy standing with Phoenix in the doorway. Locking eyes with Foxy, he lifted Chica's hand into the air. He caught Foxy's grin as he did it.

And as they stepped down into the aisle to leave the sanctuary, they did it knowing that for better or for worse, they had each other.

* * *

AN: For updates on what's happening on my account with my writing, check out my tumblr blog under the same name: Timeless Tragedy! I'll be trying to use it to keep you guys updated. _I want to thank each and every one of you_ for your love, your support, your kind and uplifting words, and your willingness to stay with me through all of Crippled. I really appreciate those who I've gotten to know even a little bit. I'll be posting the first chapter of the prequel _Paralyzed_ by Monday (I hope!).

Also, to the guest who said their theme song for this is Circus by Britney Spears, I want to thank you for sharing this with me! That song is completely perfect for Goldie.

I'll see you in the next story! Timeless Tragedy.


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